Who Knew
by MyInnerme
Summary: Everyone was positive Buffy had killed Faith the night she stabbed her, after all another slayer was called, but what if... BTVS Seasons 3-8: AU B/F Eventually
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Who Knew

**Author:** Myinnerme

**Disclaimer: **Joss Whedon and all creators of BTVS own everything, except the characters created by me. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

**Summary:** Everyone was positive Buffy had killed Faith the night she stabbed her. After all another slayer was called, right. But now, swan diving into the most confusing, unexpected sexual experience of her life, is the ghost of Faith haunting her? Or, is this the real deal?

Post Season 7 & 8 AU. So be warned, in my world, all events leading up to BTVS Season 7 and some of Season 8 sort of happened just without Faith in the picture.

**Authors Notes: **Not that anyone reads these things but it still has to be said.

Unlike most of my stories, this one actually stole the title and my time from another fic I'm writing. But who am I to kick up a fuss. So hope you enjoy.

Also, many thanks to my beta Electra - who's always hiding away in the corner in her iron clad underoos - you rock!!

**Dedication:** This is for two special friends: Chris and Devina. You've both made the last few months in my life more bearable than you realize.

**Song Tribute: **_**"Who Knew" by Pink**__•_

"…If someone said three years from now •You'd be long gone • I'd stand up and punch them out • Cause they're all wrong • I know better • Cause you said forever • And ever • Who knew…

Remember when we were such fools • And so convinced and just too cool…I wish I could touch you again • I wish I could still call you friend • I'd give anything… I'll keep you locked in my head • Until we meet again…And I won't forget you my friend… That last kiss • I'll cherish • Until we meet again • And time makes • It harder…But I keep Your memory • You visit me in my sleep • My darling… I miss you… Who knew..."

**Chapter 1**

_Alright, so sleeping with a girl makes me…_

_Bi-curious?_

Buffy grimaced.

_Ok. So the look on everyone's face said they didn't buy into that either._

But sleeping with a girl was kind of…

_Different?_

Buffy scrunched her face.

_Nah, that's a given._

It was…

_Nice?_

Buffy nodded in agreement.

_Yeah that's better. It was nice._

She'd even venture to say it was very nice.

_No better than very nice. It was…_

"Wo—"

_Alright, knock it off. Stop right there with the wows Twinkie. You came out here to think. There'll be no wows, only thinking. And you need to think about the whys. So, why?_

Buffy frowned, feigning confusion as she instinctively maneuvered through the crowd.

_Fake all you want Blondie. The question still is: Why'd you sleep with her?_

Buffy stopped abruptly, then quickly sidestepped a haggard looking woman practically dragging a whiney snot-nosed kid behind her.

Eww!!

She shuddered when the runt swiped his tongue up for a hardy sampling of green goo sliding out of his nose and gave her a toothless grin of satisfaction.

"So did not need to see that." She shuddered again for propriety sake.

Turning away in disgust, she looked around and took stock for a moment, then scowled.

No the real question for today is: "Why the frig did I park the car so far away?"

_Because you wanted to avoid the temptation of picking up stuff and only window shop, Dimwit._

Suddenly feeling the lugged weight of neatly wrapped packages stretching deceptively fragile biceps, she looked down.

Well so much for that plan.

Tightening a grip on her precious cargo she ventured back into the hustle of the crowd.

A few minutes later, the blissful peace of mentally accessorizing her purchases was disturbed by…

_Ms Denial, you ready to talk? Get this out in the open once and for all. Face the music so to speak._

'_I don't hear any music,'_ Buffy snickered softly to herself, loving her own wit.

_You're crazy to continue to ignore this, you know. It won't stay buried deep inside for much longer. And if you don't—_

"Look!" Buffy bristled. '_I'm just not ready to deal with this shit yet. So back the hell off.'_ She groused the rest internally as a few passersby gazed on oddly, one even having the nerve to point a finger.

_Fine by me. But you're still crazy._

Buffy stopped, again. Her sudden lack of movement nearly causing a chubby man in a jogging suit to crash into her as he absently admired the sway of the guy's hips to the right of her.

Ignoring his wheezed "sorry", her nostrils flared as she sucked in and out a deep breath. She was totally peeved now.

Fuck the people staring.

There had to be a way to quash to her conscience.

Make it use a different voice.

Cause it was pathetic.

Actually, no, it was more like really fucking, ridiculously hysterical if it was ever seriously taken into consideration.

From the sheer ludicrousness of it she'd burst into long, hard, peels of eye watering, belly-aching laughter on many occasion when it had crossed her mind.

To think - the biggest, psycho-murdering, slut-bitch, whore she knew was the voice of reason in her head.

Karma. She was really such a bitch herself, Buffy sneered.

And for the record, "I am not crazy!" She added in a shout of finality.

"You're fucking crazy!" the emphatic reply instantly shot back.

Blowing an exasperated breath and a snarl to those who dared pause during the pursuit of their daily lives to question her sanity, she made to continue a moody trek to the car until…

"I'm not wearing those panties," assaulted her ears in that oh so familiar burr causing her feet to freeze mid stomp.

Ok.

That was new.

Pulled by an invisible thread (or at least that's how she'll tell her story if asked) Buffy made a beeline to… glancing up at the sign: Maury's Pleasure Emporium.

_Figures!_

"Aww, come on Honey, pretty please. Do it for Big Daddy," pleaded a masculine voice as she entered the store.

An eyebrow quirked high in the air, was she the only one listening to this drivel?

Surveying the terrain, she spotted a sleazy looking, balding, middle-aged clerk dressed in a blue pinstriped uniform shirt leering perversely at her.

'_As if,'_ Buffy scoffed, turning away to the otherwise completely empty store.

"Mike you owe me if I do this. And payback's a bitch," warned a lighthearted feminine voice.

'_You should know,'_ Buffy snorted angrily, creeping carefully towards the first aisle.

Spying ever so slowly around, she found it… empty.

"As long as you pay me back the way you did this morning at breakfast, I'll be a happy camper," purred a blatantly suggestive retort which soured Buffy's stomach and made her immediately regret having extra gravy with her Poutine at the mall's food court. Damn Xander for introducing her to such a disgustingly delicious dish.

"In your dreams, buster. Your juices were all squishy in my shoes when I slipped them on to go to the bathroom."

God! TMI!!

Her stomach lurched and she almost tripped while trying to fend off the barrage of hurling imagery.

Muttering a curse under her breath, she checked the second aisle.

Nothing.

"You could have let me lick it off like I wanted to," the husky voice suggested.

"Gross!" Both females chimed in disgust, one much more vocal than the other.

A loud chuckle rang out in aisle………five.

_Got 'cha._

"You didn't say that last night," the chortler said.

"Tell me. Why am I with you again," the teasing question was asked with a laugh. The unforgettable sound sent cold shivers down Buffy's spine.

"Because you love me," came the reply just as Buffy sprang into action.

Startled, Mike whipped around in surprise at a blonde toting about thirty shopping bags with fire in her eyes.

Now, life experience had taught Mike many things. One of them being: you always find freaks in novelty stores. And just because this girl didn't stink of pee and looked a little too well groomed to be off her rocker, you never could tell.

"Hey, you alright lady?" he amicably greeted a few pulse racing moment later when menacing hazel eyes continued to dart frenetically about.

He'd concluded on the 'nice' approach after mentally assessing his gamut knowledge base of how best to handle raving lunatic encounters. The other option of running with his tail between his legs really wasn't his style. And his least favorite of all, backhanding the crazed, was not up for grabs. Especially when his upbringing had taught him smacking a woman was a no-no and the obvious physical advantage was clearly in his favor.

Baffled, Buffy blinked rapid in confusion.

'_Where did she go? I-I thoug… Oh God don't tell me I'm imagining her again.'_

"Who you talking to, Sweetie," a curious voice drifted up from re-shelving the edible grape underwear she'd rejected for the cherry flavored ones. Standing full length from her crouching position when an immediate reply wasn't given; she stepped from behind and to the side of the nice looking brunette blocking her view.

Not that Buffy took a moment to even notice the male's strong fine features or the way his alert sea blue eyes seemed to gleam in anticipated readiness under the harsh fluorescent overhead lights. No. Her full attention was locked and searing into the other brown haired beauty, whose softer features were really, really nice looking as chocolate brown orbs gazed back at her.

Seething and beyond livid, Buffy scowled murderously at the face she hadn't seen in six years.

"Faith!"

The name spat out with complete malice as Buffy exhaled a long, hard breath. A raging inferno instantly ignited and raced through every nerve ending in her body, boiling her blood and seemingly leaving in its wake charred, blackened skin and the scent of burnt flesh in the air.

Faith! The slayer in her also roared and shifted automatically into a fighting stance as all semblance of humanness was dropped along with her shopping bags.

Fuck. What she wouldn't do for that knife in her hand again. That sharp, brilliantly designed weapon of beauty from that night clutched purposefully in her grip.

That fatal night when she had to live with the ever plaguing guilt of killing… She swallowed the bitter bile rushing up from deep within as angry refluxes hindered her from even mentioning the fetid name again. But, seeing as the whore stood live and in the flesh no more than a few feet away - all smiles and giggles and playful, and doing nasty disgusting things to people's dick with her feet - Buffy guessed she was wrong about the killing part.

'_Always a slut,'_ Buffy hissed. _I lay rapt in guilt for years and she's always the slut._

A minute part of her knew Faith wasn't dead though.

She didn't care what Giles, The Council and everyone else had claimed about another slayer being called. And even when eventually meeting Wendy during the battle with The First, the fourth slayer called since Faith's death, it didn't change a thing. Always in the back of her mind, the nagging feeling that Faith was alive lingered.

Vile, disgusting evil things like Faith never died. They just slithered off somewhere else to pollute and infect another unsuspecting victim. Innocent victims just like her.

But now, finally, face to face again. No more, the slayer in her howled. No more.

Faith wasn't getting another chance to crawl her slimy ass out of here alive.

No. Not this time.

So with fingers clenched so tightly into a fist that tiny trails of blood seeped into the fissures of her knuckles, Buffy launched.

And in the next instant a blood curdling scream of anguish echoed throughout the entire store of Maury's Pleasure Emporium.

**End of Chapter 1 **

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Notes: **Thanks for all those who read and reviewed. Special thanks to Spartacus (Electra) for the beta.

**Chapter 2**

"Shit!" Lil Earl snapped to his feet in a flash, his magazine falling arbitrarily to ground when he heard an ear-piercing scream.

"Fucking hell," he looked down impatiently as he struggled to avoid catching the foreskin of 'Lil Earl Jr. between tiny metallic jaws again as he hurriedly zipped his pants.

Finally exhaling a grateful sigh of relief, he dashed from around the counter towards the back aisles, his mind running amuck with the worst possible scenarios.

Uncle Maury would kill him for sure if anything else happened on his watch. It had taken almost a week of tall lies last month to convince him that some teenagers made off with his new shipment of penis enlargers.

"Just my frigging luck," he muttered in annoyance while a few aisles over three figures stood motionless in an endless surreal moment.

_God if I'd…,_ Buffy shivered violently. Fear tightening its grip on her heart at the very thought of finishing the sentence. She cringed from the reality if she hadn't pulled back at the last second when Faith screamed, the self proclaimed hero at her side would be lying lifeless in a pool of blood when he stepped in the way to shield her.

Repulsed by her own actions, Buffy allowed suddenly heavy arms to fall limply to her sides and stepped shakily back from the petrified male.

Wide Brown eyes blinked out of their momentary daze as the weighty drag of Buffy's feet against the tiled floor broke the spell of the quiet tension.

"Mike! Oh God Mike, are you ok?" fingers frantically examined his ashen face.

Unsure if he could speak, Mike simply nodded instead, the hornet's nest in his stomach making him feel queasy.

The small blonde had rattled every nerve in his shaking body. Never before had he seen anyone move like that. The ferociousness and quickness of her strike seemed almost unnatural. And the power he'd felt behind the breeze of that punch which stopped a hairsbreadth from his jaw was…. Shit, he swallowed the cement block lodged in his throat, if her fist had connected…

"You sure baby?" tender hands cupped his chin as worried eyes searched his own.

"I-I'm o-ok," he choked out.

The quietly spoken words seemingly enough assurance to conciliate the concern as worry instantly gave way to rage when molten eyes turned to the still stunned blonde a few feet away.

"You crazy bitch! What is your fucking problem?"

"I…I…" Buffy tried but words failed her. She'd nearly killed someone. Her hands had nearly taken another life. Shed more blood, she mentally raved glancing down. The blood never seemed to come off.

"What the hell is going on?" 'Lil Earl scrambled around the corner in a huff.

"This psycho attacked us," a finger pointed derisively at Buffy, "and we're calling the cops."

"Whoa!" 'Lil Earl's hands automatically shot up.

The police were the last people he needed snooping around, especially with the stolen laptops out back he'd been trying to fence for the last few days. No, hell, no. These people had to get the fuck out before any more shit hit the fan. "Now, now, let's not be too hasty here. Why don't you just tell 'Lil ole Earl what happened and we'll take it from there?"

"What happened was, we were minding our own business when this peroxide-flaxen maniac tried to punch Mike in the face," the brunette grudgingly explained, sending another glare at Buffy, who gazed back at her, perplexed and horrified.

Something wasn't adding up. From Faith's twisted sneer and biting words she was obviously furious. But she wasn't attacking, and Buffy knew Faith. There wasn't a snowballs chance in hell Faith would let all of this happen without a fist being thrown by now.

"Rachael, let's just forget it and get out of here," Mike touched her elbow, finally recovering somewhat from the ordeal as he stepped up.

'_Rachael?'_ Buffy's brow furrowed.

"I'm not forgetting fuck," Rachael shook off the gentle touch trying to stir her away from staring daggers at the confused looking bimbo. "This bitch can't go around attacking innocent people. What if she'd hurt you?"

"But she didn't, Honey. See? I'm fine. Let's just go back to the hotel and forget this ever happened." He reached over again with a firmer grip and successfully tugged her carefully around the motionless blonde and towards the door.

"Yeah, you should listen to your man," 'Lil Earl encouragingly piped in but quickly clamped his mouth shut when Rachael glowered at him as she passed by.

"Alright, I'll go," Rachael reluctantly agreed, continuing to allow Mike to drag her away. "But just let me say one more thing to her, ok?" she asked.

Mike stopped, relinquished his hold and set her free without even a word or nod of agreement. Rachael's word was good as gold to him. If she said she was going to do something, she always did it.

Slowly and purposely strutting back, Rachael stopped only when she was barely a few inches away from Buffy which put an effective and abrupt end to the muddled blonde's intense scrutiny of her doppelganger-ish appearance.

She stood so close that Buffy's line of vision entailed watching the fascinating swirls of fury and loathing weaved in threads of honey gold splashes against the russet color of Rachel's eyes.

So close that Buffy no longer smelt the stale musky air of the store but rather her passages were filled with the fragrance of vanilla and mint mingled with a hint of another distinct scent she couldn't place.

And so close that each hot puff of air licking against her now flushed face and the coinciding body heat generated against hers caused Buffy to squirm so uncomfortably inside that even in her rigid state, she leaned a teensy bit away.

"Listen to me very carefully, you cunt," Rachael said evenly. Her venomous words hushed dangerously low for Buffy's ears only as an intrepid gaze held wide hazel orbs in an enthralling chocolate embrace. "You ever dream of laying a fucking finger on what's mine again, there isn't a rock you can hide under where I won't find you. And when I do…," she let the rest of the warning fall unspoken between them. Their silence speaking louder than words ever could.

The slayer instinctively shifted restlessly within Buffy. It wanted to answer the threat with a brand of its own. It wanted to… but Buffy immediately blocked its voice, muffling its pronouncements as she broke the stare off and meekly lowered her head in acquiescence to any further confrontation.

Rachael's lips curled into a slow satisfied sneer. Her point was made. Turning away, she walked back over to Mike and linked their arms. "Let's go, baby."

Buffy stood immobile, visibly shaken to her core for countless minutes after the couple left.

'Lil Earl shifted uneasily from one foot to the next, uncertain of how to react to the distraught woman with tears streaming down her cheeks.

How could she have made a mistake like this again? Buffy berated herself.

It wasn't the first time she'd thought a random woman was Faith. She'd scuffed up and demanded answers from an unsuspecting brunette with dimples in a movie line once before. In the early, desperate years when Faith first died, the criterion wasn't even dark-brown hair. Once or twice it had been a redhead at a coffee shop whose laugh was similar, or a blonde with a familiar divot to her bottom lip. But it was always someone other than Faith.

This time though, in mistakenly thinking Rachael was Faith, she'd gone too far.

Embarrassing sputters of apologies weren't going to appease her overzealous blunder. Pacify the shame. This time she had almost killed an innocent bystander in her twisted quest for retribution and justice.

Almost taken a life just like she took Faith's that night she struck the fatal blow with the knife.

Just thinking about it made her shudder.

She would never forget the haunting look in Faith's eyes when she realized she was going to die. Or, how she laid unmoving on the truck bed she'd landed on when she fell from the roof as it carried her lifeless body away. But most of all, Buffy would never forget the emptiness and loneliness of losing their connection. A big part of her had died that night right along with Faith. She had shivered for nights on end as she silently cried from the cold, hollow sensation inside.

Barely standing dejected and weary from the resurfaced pain of losing Faith all over again, Buffy's world almost collapsed until the angry, insistent slayer's growls eventually tore through the thick fog of encumbering emotions that wrapped around her mind and clouded her judgment.

And that's when it clicked.

When the bell went off and it suddenly all became crystal clear.

She had felt it.

It was nothing more than a blip.

But she had felt it.

She'd felt the tingle.

She'd felt the hum.

She'd felt all the feelings she hadn't felt in six years.

More than a thousand slayers later, there was still only one person who ever made her feel that way.

Spinning around without a second thought Buffy raced out the door.

She didn't care what name Faith was calling herself, or how she'd learnt to control her murderous instincts. Buffy knew after looking into her eyes that her threats were not idle, empty promises. Given enough provocation Faith would have killed her in a heartbeat. But none of that was of any concern to Buffy. She'd eventually get all the answers she needed. The only thing that mattered now was Faith was alive and she had found her.

'Lil Earl rubbed the back of his neck in disbelief at the turn of events. One minute, the neurotic blonde was bawling her eyes out. The next, she had a doughty set to her tiny frame. And then the next, she was gone in a flash.

"Fucking women," he grumped dismissively with a head shake.

Turning away, his keen eyes spotted a veritable feast laid abandoned on the floor. Cautiously glancing towards the door and seeing nothing but the welcome sign, a wide smile graced chapped lips as he tuned and walked with a new pep in his step to the bags he'd seen the blonde with earlier.

Yup, Christmas had come early for the store clerk of Maury's Pleasure Emporium.

**End of Chapter 2**

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Readers: Enjoy and Review

My Beta – Electra: Thanks for being a constant source of encouragement and great laughs :P

**Chapter 3**

The slayer was free and the world faded away into oblivion.

Nothing else existed except the hunt, and the hunter had just spotted its prey.

Fifteen feet ahead Buffy saw Rachael – no, Faith – and what's his face walking hand in hand as they bobbed and weaved through the afternoon crowd.

Ears tuned only to the sound of Faith's voice, Buffy caught their filtered conversation as pedestrians walking towards her took one glance at her menacing figure and scurried out of her path for safety.

"Ok, already. I'll let it go. But you sure crazy chick's not some ex of yours?"

Silence.

"Alright so you don't like blondes," chuckle, "and you haven't done crazy since your high school ex Marty. But you have to admit she was cute. And you do fall for cute sometimes."

Silence.

"Alright, fuck it. I'm letting it go. See. This is me letting it go now. Let's just get to the hotel. I need a stiff drink, a fuck, and a shower. And not necessarily in that order either."

Silence, then laughter.

"Yeah I had a feeling what would be your priority."

Silence.

A chuckle.

"For frigsake Mike, you don't have to tear my arms off. You're kind of guaranteed a screw whether we reach the hotel in the next second or not, you know."

Silence.

"God you're incorrigible."

Laughter. Silence.

"Well, if you put it like that, let's hurry then."

Buffy slowed her pace when Faith and Mr. Horny-toad entered a fancy hotel, greeting the doorman as they hurriedly passed. Someone must be doing very well for themselves, she thought as she quickly checked the name.

Ignoring the snotty, dismissive glance from the prudish doorman, Buffy wondered which one was spotting the big bank account as she entered a moment later to see them step into an elevator.

"Please be the only ones in there. Please be the only one in there," she pleaded under her breath, rushing over and ducking behind a column.

Quickly sneaking a peek, Buffy saw two pairs of jean clad legs just before the door closed. Blowing out a sigh of relief, she ran up to the steel doors and stared at the numbers lighting up one by one.

Two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Shit, don't be on the seventeenth floor.

Twelve, fourteen…

Buffy's face fell.

Fifteen, sixteen…

The elevator stopped.

Just like Faith to fuck with her, she cursed.

Hastily scouring the lobby she found the sign marked 'Stairs'. Quickly shuffling past an old couple discussing dinner plans at a small round table, Buffy made her way over to sign and pushed open the door. Ensuring the stairwell was empty; she raced up them in a burst of speed.

Exiting a moment later, Buffy wiped the slight sheen of sweat from her brow and thanked the Powers that Be for slayer stamina…… and hearing, she added, when she saw the empty hallway.

Gingerly tiptoeing through the corridor, Buffy paused and listened at each door until a recognizable grunt from a familiar voice startled her and ended the search.

Staring dumbfounded at the door for a moment, she shook off the shock and lightly touched it with a slightly trembling hand, then quickly yanked it back in disgust from the thudding vibrations of someone being royally fucked.

Face scrunched from a renewed surge of anger mixed with a sliver of jealously which she'd adamantly deny, Buffy stepped back to see the room number. Walking a little ways from the door, she pulled out her cell phone and pressed 5 for speed dial.

"Hey Will, I need a favor," she whispered.

"…"

"I don't have time to tell you why I'm whispering now."

"……"

"Of course I could have summed it up after such a long sentence. Fuck, Willow will you just listen to the favor," Buffy huffed softly.

"………"

"Ok, I'm sorry for cursing. I didn't mean to," Buffy said the little white lie with a straight face. She was just simply sorry Willow took offense. "But it's not as if I was directing it at yo—"

"………"

Buffy nodded.

"……………"

"You're right it doesn't matter. And cursing is for people with limited vocabulary," she rolled her eyes.

"…"

"Yes, I love you too Will," Buffy automatically chimed. "Um, Will, I'm kind of in a hurry so can we get to the favor part?"

"………………………"

"Yes I understand that you're busy too. And searching for whomever stole the scythe is super important," she iterated the point.

It wasn't that she didn't care. Of course she cared. After all, she felt partially responsible as the scythe was stolen under her watch while she was somewhat… occupied. But other things were important as well. Maybe, even just a little more important she reasoned absently. And somehow she had to make Willow see that.

"But Will, this is really kind of super urgent too. I found—"

Buffy clamped her mouth shut.

Maybe making Willow aware of whom she also considered to be a key area of focus was not a good idea. She could still recall all the times in the past when she'd said it and got nothing but sympathetic, well-intentioned gazes from her friends that conveyed the loud, unspoken message of 'will you get over it already and move on?'

No, she couldn't tell Willow she'd really found Faith this time. Couldn't tell her, this time was really for real. She didn't have any proof to offer, and there was no way to tangibly explain how she'd felt their connection.

Buffy's stomach flipped at the thought of 'their connection', and then her head suddenly whipped around.

Casting a suspicious glance at the door, she frowned.

What if Faith could feel her too?

Swiftly walking a few feet away, she threw another guarded look at the door and made to move further down the hall, then abruptly paused in her actions when she realized it would make no difference. Back in Sunnydale, she'd been able to feel Faith blocks away if she blocked everything else out and really concentrated on her.

Staring at the door with intense confusion and chewing her bottom lip, Buffy started to wonder why she kept thinking of…

"Will! Hey. No, I'm still here. Got sort of distracted," Buffy finally answered the loud shouts of her name. "Uh, about that favor I need. You're not going to like it, but I need you to crack into Walton's on 46th and 9th and tell me who's staying in room 1618."

"………"

"I'm not really asking you to commit a crime—"

"………………"

"Yes I agree hacking is a crime. But remember I said it was really, really important."

"……"

"No, not apocalyptic-y important." God, were her friends always this stubborn? "But it's kind of deathly important," she added with a devilish smirk, peering excitedly at the door.

"………"

"Why is it going to take about an hour?" Buffy demanded as she focused her attention back on Willow and off of the backhanded slap she'd just envisioned delivering across a dimpled cheek at their next encounter.

"…"

"I know you're not a machine," Buffy blew out an exasperated breath. "But you are a witch. Can't you work some hocus-pocus? Make it all magically appear or something."

"…………………………………………"

"Fine, I'll wait the few minutes," Buffy resigned in face of Willow's resolve a few long, toe-tapping moments later.

"…"

"But I thought I could maybe wai—"

"……"

"Alright, I'll talk to you later," Buffy mumbled, hanging up.

She sighed. What was she supposed to do now?

'Kick open the door and beat the living shit out of Faith,' the slayer in her offered gleefully, still more than a little miffed Faith had them believing she was dead all those years.

Buffy happily smiled, pleased with the tempting suggestion, but shook it off in favor of acting a tad bit more maturely this time and decided to take a seat on the floor opposite Faith's door instead. She might as well get comfortable. It could take awhile judging from the less than friendly, accommodating vibes she'd picked up from Willow.

And in the meantime, if Faith could feel her, well, too bad. It's not as if waiting two floors below would help in solving that problem. Actually, Faith sensing she was out there might be a plus. It'd definitely stir up the fun, she giggled to herself, especially if Faith threw the first punch. Then all she'd have to do is put on a 'Buffy pout' with puppy-dog eyes and tell Giles she'd only smashed Faith's face in because she was defending herself.

Squinting at the white door long moments later, she wished her slayer powers included x-ray vision like Superman. Then she'd be able to see what was going on. The shower was running and Faith had been humming in some god-awful tone for the last twenty minutes. But Buffy wanted to see her. Err…, well, not in the shower all wet and slick from the water, Buffy corrected as she ignored another flurry of unwanted flutters and tingles.

God, Faith really was alive; the unnerving thought shot through her head again. And now that she'd calmed down from the adrenaline rush of following her, Buffy didn't know how to react to the news. A huge part of her was still so very angry with Faith but an even bigger part of her missed her terribly. Missed her more than she'd ever dared to admit to anyone before, including herself.

Sniffing, Buffy reached for the compact in her purse to wipe the silent tears that were sliding down her cheeks. It wouldn't do to meet Faith again after so long with smudged mascara. Not that she was trying to impress her or anything. They didn't have 'that' type of relationship. And besides, judging by the noises that had been coming from behind the door, Faith was obviously involved.

"Shit," Buffy worriedly patted herself down again, nothing. About to panic at the thought that her purse had been stolen, she blew a soft sigh of relief. Her purse must have dropped in the porn store with the rest of her bags. _'There's going to be some major ass kicking if all my stuff isn't neatly waiting for me,'_ she thought, relaxing her back against the wall again.

Lifting the bottom of her blouse up to wipe her eyes with its underside, Buffy froze mid-swipe when she heard the shout, "I'm going to get some ice, Honey" coming from Faith's room.

Before she could curse herself for not coming up with a plan to deal with something like this happening, Buffy's smudged eyes opened even wider as her cell phone -- which she brilliantly forgot to set to vibrate -- started ringing just as the door's knob began to turn.

_Just great_, she scoffed brusquely.

_Just fucking great._

**End of Chapter 3**

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Enjoy and Review. A million thanks to Electra, my Beta.

**Chapter 4**

Buffy sprang to her feet.

Spinning around to the door nearest her, she grabbed the knob and shoved hard on the panel. It flew open with ease as she rushed in and slammed it closed with a bang.

Leaning heavily against it with the door's crumpled metal handle grasped tightly in her grip, Buffy closed her eyes and breathed a thankful sigh of relief.

She'd dodged the bullet of another encounter with Mike. With the unpleasant affair of nearly killing him at the porn shop she wasn't quite ready to face him just yet.

About to suck in another ragged breath Buffy suddenly froze in panic.

God, her luck couldn't be this bad, she griped.

Cracking one eye open just a smidge, Buffy quickly scanned the single room suite in dread as the thought of it being occupied pierced her conscience.

Finding no eyes bulging back at her in horror or anger, she quickly honed her hearing to listen for signs of life while finagling the still ringing phone out of her pocket.

"Hi Will," she greeted softly even though she couldn't hear any sounds of human activity.

Knowing one could never be too careful, she checked the closet while she listening to Willow.

"I can't say why I'm whi- ah, never mind." Buffy rolled her eyes, creeping cautiously toward the partly opened bathroom door. She was not ready to play that game again. Peeking carefully around the opening, her tension instantly drained as she only spotted her haggard reflection in the vanity mirror.

"Did you find out anything?" she asked, walking back into the living area after grimacing at herself. Looking like a raccoon would normally scream immediate makeover but getting information to figure out Faith's endgame was much more important. There would be plenty of time for pampering afterwards.

"You sure Will," Buffy flopped stupefied on the bed a moment later. Her legs suddenly feeling like jelly as the disfigured door knob dropped unnoticed on the carpeted floor from her slackened hold.

"…Uh, no, that's all I needed……thanks Will," Buffy mumbled. Clicking the phone shut, it fell aimlessly to her side as she sagged lifelessly onto the mattress. Its soft foam offered no comfort for the hollowed ache deep inside.

Faith was married.

Room 1618 was registered to a Mr. & Mrs. Michael Adams.

He and his wife had checked in the day before and were scheduled to stay on for an additional four nights. Apparently, everything was paid upfront with Mr. Adams' credit card. The room, the private romantic dinner for two on their balcony they shared the first night they arrived, the deluxe spa package he booked his wife, Rachael, for in the morning; everything all handled by Faith's husband.

If Faith was married now, where did that leave her?

Buffy mused painfully over the thought for a second, and then angrily scowled. Why the hell did she care whether Faith was married now or not?

"Fuck her!"

If she'd decided to call herself Mother Teresa and was hitched to the Pope or something crazy like that, it didn't change a thing. Faith was a rabid psycho-slut who needed to be put down.

Rising up on her elbows with renewed determination, Buffy gazed around the empty room in deliberation. A moment later an ominous smirk graced her lips.

She had a plan.

But it would require one quick pit stop, however, before its flawless execution.

Getting off the bed, she cheerfully made her way to the door. Finally getting it open she peeked surreptitiously up and down the hallway. Finding it empty, Buffy hauled ass to the stairs like a pack of Zorbezian demons were chasing on her heels.

Little over an hour later, she swaggered back into the hotel with her purse, her bags, and mascara in tack.

Strolling blithely up to the front desk counter, "I'd like a room please," Buffy said with a wide grin to the lady in uniform. She was beaming brightly with the satisfaction of getting at least some of her frustrations out. 'Lil Earl wouldn't be using those grubby, swollen nubs he called fingers to steal in the near future.

"Yes, of course Ma'am, smoking or non-smoking," Betty looked up from writing in the Event Report's journal with a courteous smile.

"Non-smoking. And, something on the sixteen floor, near room 1618 if you have it," Buffy's grin broadened even more as the woman checked the computer. Oh, she definitely knew they had a room.

"I'm sorry Ms., nothing's available on that floor," Betty looked up apologetically.

Buffy's face fell and her smile faltered.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely Ma'am. We had three free rooms earlier today but the two on the side of 1618 were," she looked back at the computer before answering, "reserved about forty minutes ago. And the one adjacent to it has a broken door that our maintenance people are repairing as we speak."

"Well can I wait on them to finish?" Buffy asked hopefully, without an ounce of guilt or shame. Those emotions were the last things on her mind. She was a woman on a mission.

"Can you excuse me one moment please," Betty replied instead as she reached to answer the ringing telephone. She'd been waiting on this call. If she missed it, Ted and Frank would slouch on the repair job and disappear for the rest of the day and then it'd be her ass on the line getting chewed out by Mr. Dumpel.

Turning away, Buffy chewed on her bottom lip in deep contemplation while her eyes absently scanned around the lobby.

She had to find a way to get on the same floor and near Faith's room. One couldn't very well keep tabs on someone if they weren't anywhere near them, right? Alright, technically they could, she corrected herself. But it's not like she had sophisticated spy gadget-y stuff stashed away in her bags like those in Xander's private, secret collection that only he thought was private and a secret. Well if she had that kin—

Buffy's breath hitched suddenly.

Damn, this really wasn't a well thought out plan, was it?

Amongst not carrying an emergency ATN Night Shadow Generation 4 binoculars – and how the hell she'd recalled that name, she'll never know – she, apparently also didn't seem to have toiletries, a change of clothes, or even panties for that matter tucked away in her bags either.

"Shopping trip," Buffy chuckled lightly at the simple two word solution to her dilemma.

Blissfully making a mental list, Buffy's idyllic thoughts of all the nearby stores she could purchase knickknacks from came to an unexpected and abrupt halt when she heard, "…you found a cell phone on the bed. Maybe it belongs to one of the culprits who damaged the handle. We may have to get the police involved," behind her.

God No!!

Buffy dropped her bags for the second time that day and feverishly but fruitlessly felt about her pockets.

FUCK!

This couldn't possibly be happening.

Maybe it was karma's way of saying, 'leave Faith the hell alone'. Things certainly weren't working in her favor on this one woman vendetta venture.

"Sorry about the interruption," Betty hung up, her voice startling a panicked Buffy. "But I was telling you that we don't have any rooms on that floor available. Is there another floor you would prefer?"

"… Um, uh, t-the reason I w-wanted a room near 1618 was because… was because there was this guy, from school, um, that is Sunday School to be exact," Buffy spurted sheepishly and then cleared her suddenly clogged throat.

She hoped the mention of something socially upstanding and churchy would make the story sound a bit more credible, though highly implausible if she'd given it some more thought. But she was already flustered enough over today's events and it wasn't always easy thinking on one's feet. And, more importantly, the mental image of Giles' face when he had to post bail for her if this lie didn't pan out wasn't helping in her verbalizing it coherently.

"And, ah, he borrowed my mobile and came to visit a friend, in a room on the 16th floor, somewhere near room 1618. And when he left, he dropped my phone somewhere in the room, but he couldn't remember which room, so I wanted to see if I could find it myself. I know, I know, that's not very logical. And, it borders on stupidity and I should have just come and directly asked you," Buffy hurriedly rumbled out. Flushing even more when eyebrows raised impossibly higher with the incredulous 'do I have jackass tattooed on my forehead' arch.

"But, but, my fri-, um, the guy I don't know all that well, also said he may have damaged the door," Buffy confessed knowledge of the crime then swiftly shifted the blame and distanced her involvement. It was a habit she'd learnt to do pretty early in life from having a baby sister. "And even though we're not really on speaking terms right now, I really didn't want to cause any trouble for him. All I want is my phone back. See, it has the pastor's home number on it, and Pastor Giles doesn't give his number out to everybody," Buffy added, going for broke and vaguely wondering how the hell Willow could babble so effortlessly. It had to be in the genes.

"Enough!" Betty cut in forcefully. Her pay check was not worth the customer is always right blah, blah bullshit under these circumstances. She could already feel the tension of a massive migraine beating at her temples.

"You're trying to tell me, young lady, that you were willfully willing to conceal the crime of property damage committed against this establishment by a friend. A friend whom, according to you, you don't know all that well, in order to satisfy your own selfish need to retrieve your cellular phone."

Buffy's right eye twitched rapidly, then it slowly blinked twice as she was brought back to the moment.

Whoa! That was… wow!

She could have sworn she was talking to her mom for a second there.

"Uh, I wouldn't exactly word it like that," she helpfully pointed out. "He was planning to come and confess later this afternoon if it helps any," Buffy added with a half-smile as she sank deeper into the quicksand of her lie, her mind racing with who could possible play the role of a not-so-friendly friend. Xander was a no-no; he was out of town on a mission. Giles was the pastor. She guessed she'd have to call Andrew. He mightn't mind getting manhandled when they threw his skinny butt in the slammer. Take one for the team so to speak.

Betty quietly glowered with her arms folded across her chest. It really took all kinds, she thought distastefully.

Shifting uncomfortably under the disdainful glare as the daunting silence continued to stretch and thicken the air, Buffy eventually sighed in defeat. The gig was up. It was time to cut her losses and move on.

She fished into her purse for the traumatized credit card which lay recuperating in the dark, serene confines of her wallet from her earlier 'window shopping' spree.

"Alright, fine. I'm sorry. I was wrong. Can I just pay for the damaged door and get my phone back?" Buffy apologized with as much sincerity as she could muster, which wasn't a hell of a lot.

"Oh. No. You don't get off that easy, young lady." Betty's hand came to rest firmly at her waist while the other reached for the telephone.

**End of Chapter 4**

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the long delay. Life and temporarily only having one fully functioning arm has taken its toll... Nah, I was just being too persnickety. :P

Hope you enjoy and review

Thanks to Electra, my Beta. Extra special kudos goes to you for putting up with me. :D

**Chapter 5**

Buffy couldn't believe it.

Ugly Betty had ratted her out.

And for two long, grueling, faux-humbling, head-pounding, agonizing hours, she and her boss, Mr. Dumbass, tag-teamed, needled, and took her through the wringer about the virtues of learning to be a responsible adult.

It had taken everything in Buffy, plus the kitchen sink, to calmly sit still and not explode. But, with 'nothing can jeopardize the mission' playing at the forefront of her mind, she had done it. She had quietly sat there, and when appropriate, interjected ardent agreements to their arguments or apologized profusely for her adolescent behavior.

At the end of the chiding, they were so impressed with their handy-work of the lessons learnt by a newly reformed and dependable Buffy that they had accepted her earnest plea to stay on as a guest. That is of course, once she paid for the damaged door.

A no-brainer, Buffy smiled docilely and reached again for her credit card as she asked for the amount.

Dourly walking into the elevator with scarcely contained anger, Buffy's fingers trembled as she pressed the rounded button on the number panel while silently willing herself not to smash her entire fist through the shiny gold-plated surface.

Lips pinned tightly into a sneer and seething even more as she opened the door to her hotel room, Buffy flung her bags in with such force they ripped open. Shoes instantly scattered chaotically throughout the entire room, one even making its way as far as the bathroom and into the bathtub.

"Fucking extortionists," she yelled, finally feeling free to speak as she slammed the door to Room 1734 and headed straight for the mini-bar.

When the fuck did a door cost 5,200? Giles was going to kill her when he saw her credit card statement.

She should have let them haul her ass off to jail.

She was sure it would have been cheaper than paying the exorbitant price.

"Now here I am. A whole flipping floor away from a room I paid umpteen times for," she growled, pulling out all the tiny bottles marked liquor. A whole flipping floor away from Faith was what she really meant.

Clomping over to the couch grumbling words about slaying lecture-giving extortionist-hell-demons, she flopped near a hastily thrown strappy silver stiletto.

Unscrewing the top of a whiskey bottle, she slugged it all down and kicked off her shoes to join the rest on the floor.

Wiggling her toes in relief as the cool air kissed them; she guzzled another bottle, not bothering to look at the name. In a short time they would all taste the same anyway.

Every frigging time. Without fail. Whenever she encountered Faith in her life, things went to pot. Total shit.

It had to be an omen or something.

It was like the two of them could never coexist in peace.

It would either be a major pissing contest or Clash of the Fucking Titans. And sadly, this time, Faith wasn't even actively competing with her, or even acknowledging her presence for that matter.

"Is it too much to ask?" Buffy took another swig.

All she wanted was for them to be… friends. Maybe a little more, a stray thought whispered but was instantly stomped mercilessly into the ground.

Somehow things just never turned out good between them. But even now, with one catastrophe after another, she couldn't bring herself to walk away from the dark slayer. It had always been that way, she thought, reaching up to scratch her irritated chest.

"See, even thinking of leaving her is making me itchy," she giddily snickered.

Downing another two bottles, her flippant chuckles quieted down and then turned to a silent brood when the notion – Faith obviously didn't seem to have a problem leaving her – settled into her buzzing mind.

Faith seemed to have put Buffy and her past far, far behind her. Even to the point of getting married in her new life. Happily married from the looks of it, Buffy begrudgingly admitted.

There wasn't a hint of the sadness that used to flicker in her brown eyes now. Not even an ounce of guilt or regret from all the horrible things she'd done as a kid.

"A kid", Buffy snuffed drunkenly, cracking open a bottle of vodka from what she could tell while squinting.

That's what Faith had been back then… a kid. Barely a teenager who no doubt had had a shitty childhood and had made some bad choices and mistakes that stemmed from an unfortunate accident.

It had taken Buffy a few years to come to grips with that little revelation, and then many more agonizing years with that eye-opener wishing she'd had that insight to redo the night of Finch's death. She would have been a lot less eager to bid a hasty retreat from that roach motel room in an effort to disassociate herself from the role she'd played in it all.

Honestly though, whether Faith had paid legally by society's standard for the crime that night was a moot point with Buffy.

When it was suspected that she had killed Faith, there was no judge and jury. No one deliberated over her fate. Everyone moved on accepting the harsh reality that the rules were different. The stakes were higher. They were Slayers. Young girls endowed with the means to use their bodies as living weapons in the war against evil. And as in every war, there are casualties. Sadly, some are innocents. This was a grim, often all too real truth that they as slayers faced, and those fighting by their side unequivocally accepted this fact as well as they joined them to fulfill their duty night after night, apocalypse after apocalypse.

The gang all claimed they held no gripe or animosity towards Faith anymore. She wasn't the first slayer to mistakenly take a human life and she definitely wasn't the last since that time either. According to them, they'd made their peace with her and moved on at the memorial service Buffy's mom held in Faith's honor. A final goodbye service Buffy couldn't bring herself to attend but rather had spent the time stoically sitting with her knees drawn to her chest in a corner of Faith's old apartment.

In retrospect, Buffy had no right to judge Faith. Truthfully, nor did she want to.

So why did she always feel the need for retribution? Why did she always want Faith to pay for the hurtful things she'd done? Why was it always a gnawing ache deep in her soul to be looked squarely in the eyes by Faith, and have her explain the whys? The whys of them? The whys of their relationship? And, the whys of how it had gone so wrong?

Even this whole surveillance gimmick was nothing more than a sham to get the answers to the deepest questions of her heart, Buffy reluctantly admitted.

Throwing down another empty bottle to join its companions on the ground, Buffy gently cradled the remaining full ones in her arms to avoid them falling as she kicked two mismatched pairs of shoes off the sofa and stretched out to her full length.

"I don't care anymore," she yawned, settling in.

If Faith had moved on, and everyone else had moved on, it was high-time she moved on as well.

To hell with the whys.

And to hell with the spying.

Faith was married, and what's done was done. She was finally letting go.

"Screw her. Fai-, no, Fachael," Buffy snorted with a giggle. "Let Fachael go live her damn life without me," she garbled through a hiccup, closing weary eyes.

"Buffy!"

Buffy jerked from her drunken slumber when a frantic witch materialized out of thin air surrounded by a small bluish cloud of smoke.

"Will?" She peered through bleary inebriated eyes.

"We've been trying to reach you for hours. What the heck's going on, Buff?" Willow asked, noticing the haphazard array of bottles and shoes surrounding her.

"Faith's married," Buffy slurred, trying to unsuccessfully sit up before flopping woozily back on the sofa. Drinking on a gravy filled stomach was not a good idea.

'_Faith again_,' Willow sighed sadly and moved over to one of her best friends to assist as she struggled to get up again.

Helping Buffy up, Willow pushed aside some shoes and sat on the table opposite her. She watched quietly for the next few moments as Buffy sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her palms as tears silently fell. _Goddess is she ever going to get over her? It was never this bad with Angel._

"She's married… she finally left me Will," Buffy choked out.

Leaning forward and brushing a few matted strands from Buffy's tear stained face, "Faith's dead, Sweetie. You have to forgive yourself and let her go," Willow said soothingly.

"She's not dead," Buffy looked up, her eyes almost pleading to be believed. "I saw her Will."

"You saw someone who looked like her," Willow corrected with a gentle headshake.

"It's her," Buffy insistently shook her own head, more tears flowing. "I felt her, Will." She pointed to her chest, "I felt her deep in here like I always do."

Getting up and sitting down next to her, Willow put a comforting arm around her shoulders and gently rocked Buffy until her short, deep breaths broke into harsh a sob.

During the bizarre string of phone conversations with Buffy, Willow was sure something major was on the verge of happening. Hanging up from their last call, as an afterthought, she'd even called the hotel and reserved the free rooms on either side of 1618 just incase they had to send in some girls to do reconnaissance.

Now it would seem all of it was nothing but Buffy having another Faith-sighting.

They used to happen a lot in the early months when Faith first died. Reflecting, she only now realized the sightings only seemed to come to an abrupt halt when Giles suggested Buffy speaking off the record to a Council Psychiatrist friend of his. Back then they had all rejoiced thinking Buffy had finally come to terms with the role she'd played in Faith's death. Now she guessed they were all foolishly wrong.

Drawing the heaving body closer Willow closed her eyes to fight back her own tears. She hated seeing Buffy hurting like this. When she was calm again, they were going to have an honest heart-to-heart discussion. The time of pretending by Buffy that she was over Faith's untimely death was finished. Buffy needed help and that's exactly what she'd get.

Tenderly stroking her head, Willow muttered a few words under her breath which allowed Buffy to slip into a deep sleep, her small body sagging limply against her.

Sighing dolefully, she glanced around the room decorated with mounds of new shoes and shredded shopping bags.

Shaking her head at the mess, Willow chanted a spell that would return her and the sleeping slayer to Buffy's bedroom, along with another one to bring along all of Buffy's possessions from the hotel behind them.

Ignoring the thudding noises of the shoes landing on the floor behind her as she pulled the covers over Buffy, Willow nearly jumped through the ceiling when she heard, "How the fuck did I get here?" exclaimed behind her.

**End of Chapter 5**

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Many thanks for all those that reviewed and to Electra for betaing. I hope you enjoy this update and don't forget to review.

**Chapter 6**

Willow spun around in shock and came face to face with…

Two rounded mounds of perfection.

Willow's eyes bulged as she gawked.

If thoughts were flowing properly in her knowledgeable head they would be telling her to close her mouth as she stared motionless and unbidden at the breasts of a very alive Faith-like person wearing laced see-through lingerie.

Breaking into a sweat, a few stray neurons collaborated and fired the command for her eyes to stop their appraisal of dusk colored nipples she could visibly see were slightly erect under the sheer material.

Slamming her eyes shut, Willow swallowed.

_Oh Goddess!!_

"Hey you. I'm talking to you. How the fuck did I get here?" Rachael angrily repeated for the third time to the redhead mumbling 'don't look' over and over again. Giving up, she kicked aside a mass amount of shoes and stormed towards the girl.

Instinctively sensing rather than hearing the heated approach, a befuddled Willow reacted reflexively and shot an invisible blast of energy.

Before Rachael knew what was happening, she was thrown several feet back and crumpled into an unconscious heap the instant she connected with the stone wall.

"Oh Shit!" Willow yelped when she heard the loud crack then thud.

Rushing over, she frantically checked for signs of life and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt a steady pulse and saw no signs of blood. Finally, pausing for a moment to intently study the face that she'd only glimpsed before being sidetracked, Willow stumbled up and rushed out of the room.

"Giles!! Giles!!" Willow screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran through the long hallway and magically leaped down the stairs. Landing softly, she continued her race towards his office.

"Willow?! Good Lord, what is it?" Giles joined the many concerned slayers in the foyer also rapidly making their way in from various parts of the house as they heard the alarmed shouts of the frantic Wicca.

Pushing through and ignoring the barrage of similar questions and confused feminine bodies, the worried Englishman and the excited redhead eventually cleared a path to each other.

"F-Faith!... Faith's alive, Giles. Faith's alive!" Willow raucously sputtered, putting a hand to her chest to steady her heavy breathing.

A chorus of stunned, deafening gasps echoed in the nearly filled hall at her declaration.

Nearly kissing his teeth together in irritation, Giles tried to still his wildly beating heart. First Buffy, now Willow with this Faith claptrap. Bloody hell. She'd almost caused him to spill a very hot cup of tea. Then, as if on cue, Giles' brain registered scattered spots of burning sensations on his right hand which proved that some drops of the steaming brew actually did make its way over the glass' edge.

"Willow," he crossly censured, dabbing at the small splotches. She should know better than to bring this foolishness up… and so openly. Everything at the school was bedlam. They were facing another major crisis, morale was low, and the girls were fretful because no one had a clue how to beat this new enemy among other minor agitations. It was one of the reasons he'd sent Xander, Kennedy and a team of slayers out on an information scavenger hunt.

"No Giles. Don't say it. Yes, I know better than to bring this up now and so openly but I'm serious, Faith's alive. She's upstairs in Buffy's bedroom," Willow knowingly explained.

Another round of shocked gasps was heard. They all knew of another slayer who was recently found up in Buffy's bedroom and had been conveniently reassigned to Xander's team.

"No! No, not like that. She came here when… well, I don't really know how she came here. One minute it was me and Buff and the falling shoes I had brought back from the hotel with us. And then, Faith just appeared. Looking… uh, very Faithish and was all demandy…but I knocked her out cause she was charging at me. It-it wasn't cause I was flustered that she was looking all sultry and sexy and I could see… well, I had my eyes closed when I blasted her into the wall so I didn't see anything. I never even noticed that heart studded diamond navel ring on her nicely defined stomach until I was checking to make sure I didn't kill her again," Willow elaborated for clarification to the onlookers.

She got a few "mmm", "oh-ok", and nods of understanding. So Buffy wasn't doing the horizontal poker. And, of course slamming Faith against the wall was fine if Willow was only defending herself.

"Will you stop this incessant jabbering," Giles cast Willow a dubious glare when she gazed hopefully around the crowd with the question "You guys know I'll never cheat on Kenny, right?" as the prelude to continue her recount of events.

He'd had his fill of this. "I don't know what or who Willow believes she saw. Frankly at this point I don't really care. We have other more important things we need to be concentrating on. Faith is dead. She died back in Sunnydale and another slayer was called. There is no dark avenging slayer haunting these halls. How many times do I have to tell you girls this and to stop listening to Andrew…"

Looking around the crowd to see if he spotted the self-proclaimed orphic storyteller, Giles' voice trailed to a complete stop and his face turned ashen. His eyes widened unnaturally behind his wire-rimmed glasses as he stared off.

Eyes that had been transfixed on him suddenly flickered in a mix of confusion and concern, and then turned to follow his unyielding gaze.

Not even a hushed whisper was heard as they all wordlessly gaped at a furious brunette standing at the top of the stairs in nothing else but a red laced teddy with fists coiled and placed firmly at her waist.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on here. Personally, I don't give a rat's ass," Rachael blistered, slowly descending one determined step after the next. "All I know, is someone better get me the hell back to Mike before I lose my temper."

At her threat, slayer after slayer shifted tensely into a fighting stance even as they parted a clear path for her to pass.

She walked by each of them as if they didn't exist until she came to a halt in front of the old guy who was ranting moments earlier and the redhead she'd seen upstairs. The blonde from the porn store was still up there, but after trying ineffectively to wake her in a not so nice way with a few slaps, she'd given up and decided to investigate the sounds of commotion she'd heard.

"Listen Gramps," she looked in Giles' awestruck eyes after a long stretch of silence passed and still no one had said anything. "My name is Rachael Ashton. I don't know how I got here, or what drugs ya'll gave me to believe I was in the bathroom one minute then here the next. But if ya'll are trying to kidnap me you're wasting your time. You won't get a frigging dime. So how bout you get me back to my hotel room and out of this twisted nightmare?"

Willow quietly gasped as her eyes widened even further. It was all totally making sense in a murky kind of way. This must have been the person Buffy wanted information on in Room 1618.

"I-I thought your n-name was Rachael Adams," she stammered when a dark gaze landed on her.

"How the fuck do you know what my name is or isn't?" Rachael started pointedly towards her then stopped. Her memory was a little fuzzy but the last time she'd done that all she remembered was the sensation of feeling weightless just before crashing into something and everything going black. Somehow, even though it seemed impossible, she felt the redhead was responsible for the mishap that led to the pounding headache which was beginning to make her feel even dizzier.

"I'm talking to you," Rachael insisted when all she received was an unblinking, blank response. "You going to answer me Red?" She demanded, then looked around in aggravation when everyone gasped just as loudly as the redhead. "What the hell? What's wrong with you fucking people? Somebody needs to star—"

"Put her down Willow!" Giles, finally breaking a little out his stupor, commanded the shell-shocked witch.

Rachael whipped around, "Put who dow—" She dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

"Now do you believe me Giles? Now do you believe me Faith's alive," Willow softly admonished a long moment later as they all silently stared utterly flabbergasted at the brunette sprawled unconscious on the wooden floor.

"I think I deserve an apology," Andrew stood up smugly from his crouched position between Marla and Sophie's legs as he concluded Victoria had obviously told Faith all her secrets.

Unsure of how to answer Willow and totally ignoring Andrew, a frazzled Giles finally looked up at the Wicca, "Can you ensure whatever you did keeps her unconscious for a while?"

Nodding, Willow muttered a few words, "Done."

"Go get Buffy and meet me back in my office," Giles told her.

"She's asleep," Willow informed. "Uh…, I'll go wake her right away," she quickly added, immediately turning on her heels and beating a hasty retreat through the sea of girls at the murderous gleam in Giles' eyes.

Looking down again Giles flushed. Quickly looking back up he pointed at Cherry and Amy, "Can you two take her up to a spare room please? And change her into something a little less…." His blush deepened slightly as his eyes automatically betrayed him. "…, um, revealing," he added with a croak. Embarrassed, he tore his gaze away. He had no interest whatsoever in the young lady like that but he was always a sucker for nice legs.

"The rest of you can continue doing whatever you were doing before…" Giles stopped motioning around at the mystified audience. He was dumbfounded and at a loss for words as his mind decided to try and make sense of everything. What exactly was all of this? Did Faith really return from the dead like Buffy? He had no idea.

"Is that really Faith?" Debora asked curiously, pulling Giles from his thoughts.

She was clearly voicing the general consensus of the others gathered, who were whispering and mumbling amongst each other as they watched Cherry effortlessly lift the sleeping cargo in her arms as she and Amy took the stairs two at a time.

Taking off his spectacles for a quick shine, "I'm not sure," Giles answered honestly. "But when we find out, we shall inform the rest of you."

"Yo, where's her tats?"

Giles swung around at the puzzling question to stare even more bemused at the puzzling mohawk-punkish slayer, Katherine. How potentials were chosen still remained a mystery.

"Kat's referring to the tribal tattoo on Faith's right arm. It's not there anymore," Lori softly clarified.

"Tribal tattoo?" Giles repeated confusingly as his gaze shifted to the demure gingerhaired slayer, whom he had deemed a long time ago Katherine's interpreter. Katherine was a nice enough kid, but very seldom he understood more than three words out of the darkly clad girl's mouth. How she and the always modestly dressed Lori were best friends was another enigma he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. The two were inseparable, yet they were like night and day.

"I have no idea about a tattoo," he answered, shaking his head as he turned away to another question that drew his attention. He really was clueless as to whether Faith even had a tattoo before, but, it really didn't matter; those things were easily removed.

After all, no one now could tell he once had an Eyghon on his inner arm.

"Is she still evil and dangerous?" Tabby asked, still more than skeptical about Andrew's embellished accounts.

Frowning, Giles wondered if Faith was still dangerous. He sincerely doubted she was evil. Evil was never a term he'd associate with Faith. She may have been angry and misguided but never evil.

"Do we have to fight against her or is she going to join us?" Sarah shouted out before Giles could answer Tabby. She'd heard so many rumors about the dark slayer being the only one who had ever evenly matched Buffy blow for blow and would love to go against her in a sparring match before challenging Buffy.

"Ladies," Giles interrupted Jen before she could ask her question, "and Andrew, please," he effectively cut off Andrew's insistent pouted request for an apology with the raise of his hand. "I really can't answer any of your concerns. We're not sure if this person is Faith or not. She could honestly be who she says she is. So, if you could refrain from any more questions for now, we can get to the bottom of this and get some answers back to you on how we will proceed."

Nothing left to be said, he turned on unsteady legs and headed back to his office.

"When it rains, it bloody well pours," Giles muttered, closing his door.

**End of Chapter 6**

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long to update but personal life threw an unavoidable curve ball. That said, I hope you enjoy this update and don't forget to review. A million thanks as always to Electra for betaing and her unwavering patience… :)

**Chapter 7**

Willow tried unsuccessfully again to focus on the blur moving back and forth but it was a lost cause. Her eyes were starting to cross and its rapid pace was beginning to make her feel dizzier by the second.

Startled a beat later when the haze came to an abrupt stop directly in front of her, she pitched with a shriek then quickly reached for her wildly beating heart while narrowed pensive eyes glared on.

Inhaling two deep breaths, and then, slowly exhaling, she willed her rattled nerves to relax. Feeling a calm settle in almost immediately, Willow gathered restraint, resolve, and a whole lot of patience for the task of what she hoped was not another futile plea.

"Uh Buff…," Willow began, doing her best to ignore hands now being folded tetchily across the blonde's chest as she continued to glower at the Wicca. "We should probably head downstairs. Giles is kinda still waiting on us. And he's got something really, really – and I stress the _really, really_ – important to tell you."

As time ticked on, and it was becoming apparent to Willow that her words had fallen yet again on deaf ears, Buffy's voice broke into the uncomfortable stretch of silence.

"Why?! Why Will? Just tell me why?" She threw her hands high up in frustration.

Dropping her gaze, Willow sighed despairingly at the outburst.

She'd already explained _ad infinitum_ to Buffy why she'd brought her back home. In the last fifteen or so minutes she'd done nothing but explain over and over again why her best friend was no longer a blubbering drunken mess on the hotel's couch.

Shifting her weight glumly from one foot to the other, Willow weighed her options.

Initially she'd contemplated letting Buffy know that Faith's doppelganger was merely a floor away when she'd first come to wake her. However, that idea was quickly thwarted and replaced with thoughts of self-preservation once bleary eyes snapped open and Buffy realized where she was.

Flushed, Willow had gazed on in horror during the first few minutes of Buffy's explosive and expletive-laden awakening. Needless to say, it didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that there was no way she revealing, especially all by her lonesome, that bit of news to the cranky, completely pissed off slayer. No, hell Goddess, no. Let Giles deal with her. Besides, he was the one officially trained to handle temperamental slayers. She'd had her fill of the whole lot of them… uh, well, not fill per say, she corrected with a tiny smile as she thought of her last night with Kennedy.

"Oh for crying out loud Will! Get your mind outta the fucking gutter and answer the flippin question," Buffy snapped her fingers in front of the Wicca's face.

Biting back a terse retort as her smile instantly dissolved, Willow heard the snapping of the last straw in the distance. Alright. She'd had enough. The bitchy, demand-y attitude of the blonde had to go before her green eyes slid to black. Buffy needed to get her scrawny butt downstairs stat. Pronto. As in right this second.

Readying to mumble a teleportation spell, Willow clamped her lips shut and swallowed hard as her eyes locked with Buffy's in a silent challenge.

Oh-kay. Maybe teleportation was not the best option she quickly concluded, dropping her gaze back to the floor. The glimpse of something still not quite human lurking around in hazel depths told her one wrong move now would be a fight to the death, and she so did not want to lose her best friend. Xander was nice but he still literally drooled whenever she even hinted at anything remotely sexual between her and Ken.

Hearing a throat clear in pointed irritation half a moment later, Willow briefly closed eyes that were staring at the almost rhythmic patter of tiny slayer feet.

Goddess give her strength.

How was she ever going to get Buffy downstairs without confrontation or something equally as rash?

Sagging her shoulders in defeat, Willow realized that getting Buffy to go willingly was the only way. Suppressing another sigh, she reluctantly accepted her new lot in life and began trying to appease her.

"Buffy, the only reason I brought you back home was because I was—"

"Worried. I get that Will. Really I do. You were all concerny best friend because I was drunk, and sad, and crying, and you cared and…" Buffy's expression immediately softened guiltily as the words trailed from her lips. "…and I'm being a total bitch aren't I?" She admitted as she finally took in her longtime friend's haggard appearance.

"Just a teeny, weenie, weensy one," Willow tentatively agreed, cautious that 'Crazed Buffy' could rear her ugly head again at a moment's notice.

"So mega bitch times two it is," Buffy's teasing grin instantly lightened the wariness and tension in the air.

"Your words, not mine," Willow smiled.

"God Wills. I'm sorry for being such a jerk. Can you forgive me?"

"Already water under the bridge… or in our case, under the moat. Though technically, moat may also be an improper choice of word," Willow corrected sheepishly to the chuckling blonde who simply shook her head at Willow's Willowness.

"Don't ever change."

"Of course not. I'm perfect," Willow mumbled into Buffy's shoulder when she was suddenly grabbed into a slayer-sized bear hug.

"Absolutely perfect," Buffy agreed as they both laughed and basked in their embrace. Letting go of grudges, sweeping the bad stuff under the carpet and piling on the love were some of the things that always made their friendship great.

A moment later, despite the contentment of renewed friendship, Buffy expelled a weary breath. God she felt so unsettled... so lost. Tightening her hold, slender arms gathered her closer in supportive comfort.

Buffy knew raking Willow over the coals had been unfair. She was definitely going to have to make up for it big time. The whole time she was ranting, a huge part of her was screaming out that the reaction didn't fit the crime, but she just couldn't stop herself. She just couldn't let go of the anger and face the reality that she'd really been unwillingly taken miles away from Faith. Willow's actions, although understandable given the situation, had felt like one more act among a string of many others that was always coming between the two slayers and taking Faith away from her.

Buffy sighed. God, she so desperately wanted to see the brunette again. Even now with the distance separating them her slayer senses felt like they'd gone into overdrive from their brief encounter. Her insides were tingling and the low, faint, hum in her body was still buzzing as if the dark slayer was nearby. She had to get back to the hotel. She had to get back to Faith.

Frowning as the thought 'get back to Faith' rolled over in her mind again, Buffy marveled at her own stupidity. Sometimes, she begrudgingly admitted, even she could take assification to a whole new level. Earlier, she'd been so busy bitching about being taken from Faith that the thought of getting quickly back to her hadn't once crossed her mind. Shit, if she'd missed her chance to see those brown eyes again she was going to kick her own ass.

"How long was I sleeping, Will?" Buffy pulled away suddenly.

"Not long. Probably an hour or so at most," Willow gauged, letting her arms fall to her sides as she stepped back.

"Yes!" Buffy squealed, before turning around and rushing into the bathroom. God she felt like jumping in the air and clicking her heels.

Taken aback, Willow questioned whether it was wise or even sane to follow the blonde. Shrugging as good old fashion curiosity – a.k.a nosiness – won hands down, she threw caution to the wind and quickly pursued.

"What's up Buff? Why the rush?" She inquired as she watched her hastily wash away the remnants of dried tears and reach for her toothbrush.

"Ah phill harime," Buffy mumbled between brushing.

"Huh? Phill Harem? Who's Phill Harem Buffy? Do I know him?" Willow inquired with knitted brows.

Flashing her pearly whites for inspection, Buffy grabbed the mouthwash. "Rime Rill. Rime," Buffy gargled as she clearly enunciated the words for the redhead to understand.

"I still have time Will. I still have time to get back to the hotel," she happily clarified to the obviously still confused Wicca as she rinsed the sink and reached for her makeup bag.

Applying some lipstick and smacking her lips together as she closed the lipstick tube, Buffy paused in her frenzy. She loved the way the light coral color shimmered and made her eyes appear greener and more sparkly. She wondered if Faith would like it too. Shaking her head with a giddy laugh at her own silliness, she quickly reapplied some mascara. Baby steps she reminded herself. She and Faith needed to make baby—

"Clothes!" Buffy yelped.

Snatching up her overstuffed cosmetic bag, she barreled past Willow who was still futilely trying to convince her about attending some boring meeting or the other. There was no way she was going to forget packing properly this time around. No frigging way.

Trailing behind and watching a flurry of outfits, underwear, and shoes being stuffed into an overnight bag at an alarming speed, Willow continued, "…Giles has been waiting forever on us Buffy. I'm surprised he hasn't already sent someone up to drag us downstairs kicking and screaming. Buff?… Buffy? You're not listening to me."

"Sure I am. Giles is downstairs kicking and screaming…," Buffy paused to admire a brand new pair of calf-high leather boots she'd recently bought. Damn she had good taste, even if she had to say so herself. These would look absolutely awesome with her plaid mini. Yup! They were definitely coming alon—

"Hey! Give those back," Buffy whined, attempting to snatch the boots Willow had sneakily swiped.

Trying, yet failing a third time, Buffy paused in motion as Willow scuddled out of reach again. She raised her eyebrow in amusement. "You do realize that I'm a slayer and can outrun you, right?"

Willow's eyes widened. "Truthfully, the thought never crossed my mind," she confessed, making Buffy's coral-tinged smirk grow just a bit wider.

Frowning in consideration a breath later, Willow's face lit up and her eyebrows rose with their own brand of mischief.

"But are you completely forgetting that I'm a witch?" she drawled out as she clutched the stolen goods a bit tighter to her chest.

Arrogant leer only faltering for a second, Buffy launched. Charging hard and fast when your opponent least expected it usually yielded good results.

With no time to physically react to the imminent ambush, Willow barely muttered out a chant before Buffy closed in on her.

In a blink, the slayer and her reclaimed boots tumbled head first into a shrub just outside the stone walls of her bedroom.

Spluttering and spitting out a leaf between giggles and waving off the proffered hand of her frantically apologizing best friend, Buffy righted herself with a quick snap of slayer agility.

"God Will, you really have to stop zapping us all about," Buffy grumbled playfully as she wiped at the grass stain on her left pant leg. It was a good thing she was planning to change. "One day you're going to really miscalculate and land us somewhere like… like Giles' bedroom. Oh God, can you imagine that," she laughed. "He'll be in the middle of having sex– Eww! Oh-kay! Why did I go there? I think I just fried my brain," Buffy finished with a snort of disgust.

"Correction," Willow said, repulsed. "I think you just deep fried both our brains," she shuddered when a vivid image of a very sweaty, naked Giles pausing during coitus to clean his fogged glasses rooted itself firmly in her mind.

"Didn't he once have a thing with your Mom?" Willow blurted out, trying to distract her wayward thoughts.

"Yech!... God! Double Yech!!" Buffy paled, her stomach doing a flip-flop. God, kill her now, she pleaded. Giles and her Mom… Urgh!! Her brain needed a shower.

Willow snickered despite her own queasiness. It really was an awful thing to mention and drew even more horrific images of Mrs. Summers and Giles that no human should ever think of; but, seeing a pasty Buffy phantom-gagging into her boots was too hilarious.

"Hey Will, what's so funny?" A smiling shadow blocked out the sun as a figure knelt near them.

"Your mom and Giles having sex."

"Wh-wha—?!!" Dawn gasped, horrified.

Willow froze mid snicker, her eyes nearly popping out their sockets. The foot-in-mouth bandit struck again.

"Willow Rosenberg!! What the hell's your problem? Why in the world would you bring up such a disgusting memory?"

"My thoughts exactly," Buffy chimed in, only to immediately clamp her lips shut when Dawn gave her a look. Half a beat later she put her hands on her hips in defiance. "Hey! You're not the boss of me. I'm the oldest here," she stated when she realized her little sister had developed the 'will you shut the hell up' look that perfectly mimicked their mothers' to a fault… and had her complying just as obediently.

Ignoring her with a dismissive eye roll, Dawn continued to dress down the apologetic redhead still sputtering to explain herself.

"… Don't you think I've got enough sexual deviance running amuck in the ole family tree, especially with Buffy's latest _'I'm straight!'_ cry going up in a puff of smoke? Did you really need to dredge up my mom's sordid past as well," Dawn asked with a shudder, remembering the dreaded candy binge fiasco.

"What puff? Who was smoking?" Buffy muttered to herself. As the light finally flickered on in her head, she quickly interjected from the sidelines again, "Nuh-uh, Dawnie! There was no smoking any puffs round here. Big sis is still straight as an arrow. Still steady as she heterosexually goes. The fat lady's not singing any showboat tunes for me, it's strictly… well not opera, but more like Matchbox 20… or Nine Inch Nails or Pink. I like Pink." Buffy blushed. "Not as in like Pink the girl cause she's a… you know, girl. I like her song 'Who Knew'. You like it too, right Dawnie?"

"Uh huh. Yeah straight," the teen gave her a dubious look. "You keep telling yourself that little lie, Ellen. Anyways, whatever. I'm heading back to the squirrels. At least they know how to keep a conversation honest and they don't…," she gave Willow a pointed glare, "air your dirty laundry." With that said, she gave a meaningful melodramatic huff, stood to her full length, and strutted off.

Both friends silently stood watching the disappearing figure, the mildly shaking ground around them settling with each fading thump.

"You think she'll get over me saying that stuff about your Mom anytime soon?"

"Not a chance."

Willow sighed.

"You still think I'm totally straight, right?"

"Not a chance."

Buffy sighed.

Wrapping a supportive arm around each other's shoulders, they both sighed. Lapsing into deep thoughts, their minds unknowingly and eventually shifted to the same brunette but for completely different reasons.

"Uh…, Buff…, sorry to mention his name again, but Giles really needs to see us. Something important's come up that he needs to tell you," Willow pointed out, removing her arm and turning to face her. The quicker they had this meeting, the quicker they could unravel this new mystery and get back to saving the world.

Grip tightening on the boots, Buffy's brow furrowed. She felt conflicted. Too much time had already passed on her quest to get back to Faith and because of that she really didn't want to go see Giles. Still, she felt compelled not to disappoint him any more than she'd already done by her actions lately. She knew in her heart, though, that despite the compulsion to appease him, a few minutes in his office could lead to something that required her immediate attention; attention she couldn't find the gumption to give two hoots about right now.

It wasn't to say that she still didn't care about recovering the Scythe and saving the world but there had to be a line, right? A very definitive line that was supposed to be drawn to keep her life balanced. On one side duty and on the other her personal life. In the past, duty and being a slayer had always won out and muddled everything. But for now, she wanted to clearly redefine the line and create a chasm, especially when it came to Faith. She didn't want to…, no, she couldn't afford to make those same mistakes again.

"I'll tell you what Wills. Here's the deal. You send me back to the hotel for twenty minutes, after that time you can zap me straight into Giles' office or wherever your lil heart fancies."

"Buff, its best if—"

"Twenty minutes. I promise Will. That's all I need. Pinky swear," Buffy pleaded.

"Buffy, if you give Giles ten minutes you won't regret it. Double pinky swear," Willow countered. "Trust me Buff," she reassuringly touched her arm a moment later as she watched the tumultuous play of emotions dance across her friend's face.

"Five minutes and that's it Will," Buffy sadly gave in, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Without Willow willing to teleport her it would take ages to get to the hotel anyway. She just hoped by some cruel act of fate, Faith hadn't checked-out and disappeared in the meantime.

"What does he want to see me about anyways?"

"You'll see," Willow gave an optimistic smile before teleporting them outside Giles' office.

Giving the door a knock, Willow opened it and hoped for the best.

**End of Chapter 7**

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Electra for betaing and many thanks for those of you who read and reviewed. Well it's time for our slayer to face the music or at the very least hear the first chord. Enjoy & Review!!

**Chapter 8**

Buffy sat almost motionless in her ardent vigilance. Confusing thoughts crowded her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip.

When she first dragged herself into Giles' office, she'd felt empty. Hopeless. Thoughts of never seeing and reconnecting with Faith had consumed her and left a mammoth-sized hole in her heart that felt as if it would never be filled.

All she'd wanted to do at the time was run away from her frazzled looking watcher and make a beeline for the hills. But, instead she'd greeted him politely and took the offered seat like a dutiful slayer.

Commiserating for the first few minutes, Buffy'd ignored him and Willow nervously stumbling their way through the meeting until Faith's name was mentioned. Before the last syllable had left Giles' lips time had already come to a complete standstill for Buffy as she sat up completely stupefied. Her previously slouching frame held rigid as her brain methodically recalled every word uttered by her Watcher and friend since she'd entered Giles' office.

Faith was here...

Faith was here at Slayer Central...

Faith was here at Slayer Central in a bedroom upstairs asleep.

Once that thought truly sunk in and flashed like a neon sign before her eyes, Buffy, without uttering a single word, jumped to her feet and was gone in an instant; leaving Willow behind to catch the abandoned chair before it hit the ground.

Karma, fate, the Powers that Be, in fact everybody in the whole frigging world was smiling on her.

She had been given another opportunity. One more chance to make it right with Faith.

Not exactly sure where Faith was, Buffy had simply followed her instincts as she raced up the stairs. They had been telling her from she'd first awoken that Faith was near. She was a fool not to have trusted them before. A slayer should always trust her instincts. It was a matter or life and death in every hunt.

Easily finding Faith in a small guest bedroom at the end of a dimly lit hall she literally tossed out a stunned Cherry and Amy before closing and re-bolting the door.

Confronted then with the quiet of just her and Faith finally alone for what seemed like a lifetime, Buffy slowly approached the bed. But, overwhelmed by an abundance of unknown emotions, she'd silently collapsed on unsteady legs into an armchair previously occupied by one of the slayer-nursemaids and stared completely dumbfounded at the peacefully sleeping form.

That had been many hours ago.

And for the most part the room, like before, was still bathed in the unbelievable stillness of two steady breaths now inhaling an exhaling in perfect rhythm. The only disruption to the tranquil calm was the occasional rap at the door by a small team of slayers sent by a very paranoid Watcher who remembered the explosive encounters between The Chosen Two all those many years ago.

And, although startled out of her daze by the hourly taps, Buffy never responded to any of the polite inquiries into the well being of the room's occupants. She just couldn't work up the effort to answer because truthfully, she didn't want to speak with any them.

The only person her heart wanted to converse with once she sorted out the confusion clouding her jumbled mind was deep asleep on the firm mattress completely oblivious to her presence.

Tucking a lose strand behind her ears, Buffy remembered Giles shouting out to her not to get her hopes up. During their meeting he'd alluded to Faith's sudden reappearance being a metamorphose trick of their newest shape-shifting enemies and not the spell that Willow had preformed.

Although Buffy understood his skepticism, she shared none of his convictions. She didn't have a shred of doubt about who the dark haired beauty was resting comfortably before her eyes.

Faith was alive.

Buffy felt it in every tingle. She felt it in every bone. She felt it with every fiber of her being. Every instinct screamed: this is Faith.

Which meant, Willow's spell to bring all of Buffy's possessions from the hotel was somehow the real reason why Faith now here. But what did it all mean? She sighed.

Was Faith really hers?

Did they belong to each other?

Buffy wasn't too sure, but she did know she never wanted to lose Faith again.

Six years. Six long, lonely years she'd been without Faith. Unequivocally poignant years of missing her counterpart. Feeling every day, deep inside, the absence of Faith's fiery and dynamic personality. Timeless moments spent without her trademark eyebrow waggle or her dimpled smirk.

'Want, take, have'; Buffy would never forget. After years of mulling over Faith's simple summation of a slayer and on more than a few occasions aligning her own actions with it, Buffy'd realized that Faith had hit the nail right on the head. And, if she was being totally honest with herself now, even her last sexual escapade was motivated by 'want, take, have'. God, they were truly a lot more alike than Buffy would have ever had the gumption to admit back then.

Buffy sighed in deep regret.

Faith had been right with so many other things that she'd never given her credit for.

"You were right Faith. There was fun to be had in slaying," she muttered, remembering their nights patrolling.

That time in her life with Faith by her side had been her most exhilarating experience to date. It felt actually liberating being a slayer back then. Never since their time had Buffy ever felt unburdened in her calling. Even now with dozens of slayers fighting at her side, it sometimes seemed too much to bear. Without Faith, the responsibility of her duty always seemed to rest too heavily on her shoulders. At times it felt as if it was strangling the life out of her.

Feeling her calling's phantom grip tightening like a noose around neck her even as she finished the thought, Buffy absently rubbed at her throat and sucked in a deep heartfelt breath. Slowly exhaling, she continued to contemplatively watch the brunette.

God, she'd missed Faith so much.

Sliding off the armchair and carefully approaching the bed, she sat gingerly on it and stared quietly in wonder for a long moment. The small act was the first time in all those many hours she felt brave enough to venture this close.

Reaching out with unsteady fingers, not quite ready to touch yet, Buffy reverently traced the contours of Faith's features. Her russet eyebrows, her eyes, and her cheeks with the deep dimples she remembered so well. She then languidly grazed over her nose and mouth. Staring mesmerized at the soft indented full bottom lip for an ageless moment, Buffy exhaled a surge of emotions before her slender fingers continued on. Pausing again when she reached a cleft chin, she smiled at the thought that Faith sure was full of holes before reluctantly placing her hand back on her lap.

"Beautiful," she breathed in awe. "Absolutely beautiful," she muttered again, etching every facial detail to memory.

Willing her eyes not to stray a short time later, Buffy couldn't help it as they traveled down the rest of the slumbering body.

Though now covered with a blanket, it didn't stop Buffy from greedily ogling the tanned flawless skin on display beneath the white tank top as Faith's breasts rose and fell with each steady breath. Her imagination ran rampant in appreciation of what a sight Faith must have been in her skimpy red teddy. The color red would most definitely look good on Faith.

'_I would look good on Faith.'_ She turned crimson at the unabashed thought.

'_God what am I doing? This is a married woman.'_ Buffy cringed and quickly looked away from Faith to study the interesting lamp on the nightstand, memories of why her parents divorced making her somewhat ashamed of her earlier thought.

She would never allow herself to become an adulteress. She wanted no part of that lifestyle, no matter how tempting the prospect. On the other hand… an animalistic smirk lifted Buffy's lips suddenly, her face gleaming in predatory bliss despite her earlier proclamation. If Faith were single, she'd love to duke it out with Mike for the dark maiden's hand. She could almost taste the sweet victory. She could almost taste Faith.

Realizing what her thoughts truly implied, Buffy immediately curbed the satisfied leer.

God. Maybe she wasn't as straight with a slight bend as she'd recently begun to think.

Two days ago she was freaking out for foolishly jumping into bed with a woman. Now, she was vividly imagining Faith spread before her on a silver platter.

Was she truly as gay as Dawn believed? Was she Ellen?

Buffy's heart sunk.

"What's so bad about being gay anyway?" she questioned softly to no one in particular. Nothing, she reasoned with a nod giving it some thought. "Ok, so I'm gay. Or, maybe even bi," she scoffed a little louder with just a bit more confidence.

Being attracted to someone of the same sexual persuasion was not that far-fetched a notion nowadays. It was practically the in-thing to have one or two bi-curious experiences under ones belt. Besides, she'd seen enough pretty girls in her lifetime that would make anyone's head turn and it wasn't like she couldn't appreciate the appeal of a nice pair of legs or a great pair of tits.

Being gay is "quite fashionable," she finished with another nod before turning back to the prone figure.

Watching the subtle fluttering of Faith's eyelids, Buffy's stomach instantly fluttered and then knotted. Nervous fear gripped her entire body.

No. Being Ellen wasn't Buffy's issue. Her problem was a whole different kettle of fish she realized as thoughts she'd kept so firmly at bay behind a wall of denial started crashing through and making themselves known. Feelings that were hidden so deep within for so long began quickly gushing up to the surface of her conscience. They refused to linger in the dark anymore, refused to lay dormant.

Buffy wanted Faith.

No, she actually hungered for her.

And, it had nothing to do with Faith being a woman. The outer package didn't matter. She simply just wanted Faith. Needed her. Craved her in a way she never knew someone could crave another person.

The reality rocked her to the core.

Truth be known, it was only Faith's strong lithe legs she wanted wrapped tightly around her waist till it felt like they would crush her bones. It was only Faith's firm supple breasts she wanted to suck greedily into her mouth as she lavished them with keen strokes. It was only Faith's mouth she wanted to feel possessively being dragged across her heated flesh, branding it as her own with each touch.

Now faced with the blatant truth and unable to deny it anymore, Buffy fought to control her erratic breathing as she felt her heart quicken from a deep yearning and longing that her salacious thoughts evoked. Her body was visibly quaking from images of them entwined in all consuming, mind-blowing illicit acts.

How could she have denied these feelings all this time that were now setting her ablaze? How could she have denied Faith?

The level of her self-deceit was staggering compared to the raw desire flowing through her veins. No one had ever evoked this type of desire or passion in her.

Reexamining almost every encounter she and Faith had shared, Buffy inhaled sharply as long buried images of their interactions flooded her mind. Closing her lids from the onslaught, she saw all their exchanges again with new eyes.

Subtle touches.

Heated gazes.

Languid meaningful looks.

Lewd banter with double entendres.

Buffy's eyes tore open at the gut-wrenching realizations, a few tears slipping out unnoticed.

It had all been one big mating ritual. One big song and dance around the fact that they desperately wanted each other.

The anger…

The cruelty…

Even the hatred…

All of it was spurred by a deep need to connect. To touch. To feel whole.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Faith," she choked quietly at the still form.

Wiping harshly at the tears now streaming down her cheeks, she fought to hold back sobs of regret clambering to escape. Buffy's insides felt hallowed at their loss, her heart clenching from the agony and ache of wasted years.

If she hadn't lied to herself; if she hadn't kept Faith at arms length they could have….

Buffy sighed heavily and shook her head.

No. It was best not to think of the maybes. The what could have been had no place in their present. Regardless of what created the chasm between them before, fate or chance or whatever had brought them back together and Buffy intended to make the most of it. Even if it wasn't like how she now knew they were meant to be together. Should have been together.

Glancing with painful longing once more at her heart's desire, Buffy reluctantly got up and took her seat on the armchair again. It was best that she keep a safe physical distance from Faith.

"What do you want Willow?" Buffy acknowledged the presence she'd sensed enter the room a short time later.

"Giles sent me to check on you. He's really concerned and wanted me to persuade you to at least eat a little something. I told him it was pointless but he wouldn't listen." Willow stepped out of the shadows and placed the tray of food she was holding on a nearby dresser. "I came anyways because I wanted to tell you, Fai-, um, she should be waking up soon."

"How soon?" Buffy asked completely ignoring the offer of food; her morose eyes still fixated on the sleeping form.

"Another three or four hours, give or take," Willow walked over.

"Can you wake her up any sooner?" Buffy turned to glance at her best friend now standing by her side and also staring thoughtfully at Faith.

"Sure. But I wanted her to naturally awaken to avoid any temperamental side effects," she teased, a small smile playing on her lips hoping to lighten the mood of her obviously disheartened friend.

"Fine, let her sleep then. I'm going to take a shower and freshen up. Can you stay with her for me?" Buffy stood up, not rising to the bait. She wasn't in a sociable mood.

"Sure," Willow nodded.

"Will…" Buffy paused in her trek towards the door and turned to face the redhead. Something important had already been stolen from right under her nose; she wasn't going to allow it to happen again.

"I won't leave her side, Buff. I'll be right here when you get back, I promise," Willow answered resolutely, taking a seat in the now vacant armchair.

"Thank you," Buffy affirmed.

"Uh Buff?"

"Yeah."

"Um, never mind. I'll tell you when you get back," Willow decided as she watched her friend stare at the bed again. The news could keep. Besides, Buffy looked dead on her feet. She hadn't eaten or slept in a long time. A hot shower would do her good.

"You sure Will," Buffy tore her eyes away to hold the Wicca's green gaze.

"Yes. You go ahead and enjoy your shower. We'll talk when you get back."

"Okay. Thanks again," Buffy smiled thinly before turning and reaching for the knob.

Closing the door to her bedroom she headed straight for the showers. Turning on the taps, she watched the steam begin to cloud the room as she stripped.

Faith would be awake soon.

Buffy's mind reeled as she stepped onto the heated tiles, some of the tension of the last few moments immediately washing down the drain as the hot water hit her body.

There were so many possible things she could and couldn't say to Faith.

Buffy groaned, reaching for the shower gel.

God, what do you even wear to a 'Surprise! You're sorta back from the dead!' encounter?

Maybe she should ask Dawn.

**End of Chapter 8**

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all those that read and reviewed, truly appreciated hearing from you. Beta'd by Electra – thanks as always E for your invaluable support.

**Chapter 9**

Rachael slowly woke from a dreamless sleep.

She couldn't ever remember feeling so well rested. Every part of her felt refreshed; completely revitalized. There wasn't a hint of fatigue from the bad dreams that usually plagued her sleep.

About to stretch with a satisfied purr, a lazy mischievous smile graced her face instead as she thought of rousing Mike with a tickle. God, he was such a squealer. The vision of him squirming around like a pansy almost made her laugh out loud and give away the ruse.

Fighting to remain as still as possible with her eyes pinned tight, Rachael surreptitiously crept her fingers along the bedding. Disappointed when she encountered only an oversized pillow rather than Mike's soft spot, she croaked his name as she kicked off the warm covers. She hated sleeping in the constricting blankets and always found them to be downright suffocating.

Not hearing Mike's familiar gruff or the loud bass of his favorite rock band filtering in from the showers, she stretched her limbs with a yawn and wondered if he'd headed into work early again. Though she was pleased he was doing a job he loved, Rachael hated the odd hours Mike would be called in at times. There was always some system crash, or upgrade, or other technical crisis nonsense that demanded his time and attention.

Cracking an eye open to see if he'd left his usual scrawled note on the nightstand, Rachael shrieked when she found cold eyes observing her intently.

Bolting upright and scuffling back as fast as she could, Rachael's frenzied movements came to an abrupt halt when her back thumped loudly against the bed's headboard. Feeling cornered and defenseless she quickly snatched the huge pillow and clutched it protectively against her chest as she made a desperate plea for her life.

"Don't hurt me! Please God don't hurt me."

Not getting a response, her voice picked up in urgency.

"If its money you want, I-I don't have any here. I can get it for you though. However much you want. I'll get it for you. I swear. No tricks. No cops. Just—just don't hurt me?"

Met with silence again Rachael was about to plead a third time when her mouth dropped wordlessly open as her muddled brain finally registered where she'd seen her would-be assailant before.

"Who the fuck are you? Why the hell would you kidnap me?" Rachael rapidly spat out. "Do I know you?"

Treated to nothing but another bout of frigid quiet that served only to fuel her already growing anger, Rachael furiously tossed aside the pillow. Scrambling off the bed she suddenly froze mid-motion.

Mike. Where was Mike? What if this bitch had hurt him like she'd tried to before? Or worse.

"Where's Mike? What have you done with him? So help me God if you've hurt him—"

"He's safe," a soft voice assured, cutting off the rest of the threat and causing Rachael's head to whip around. She'd been so engrossed with the stone-faced woman she never noticed someone else was in the room.

Spotting the figure seated a good ways off on the other side of the bed, Rachael's anger faltered. Fear instantly reinstating its strangled hold around her as the memory of the previous events from the last few hours came flooding back.

The newcomer was the female she had seen when she'd mysteriously found herself in that strange bedroom before passing out. The redhead was also the same person she recalled being near her in the crowded foyer just before she'd blacked out again.

Never knowing herself to be a fainter, Rachael's gaze flickered to the onyx silver ring on the girl's right hand. Almost automatically abandoning the silly notion of her overactive imagination that somehow the shiny jewel was a trick ring that squirted a sleeping mist when triggered, she lifted her eyes to meet curious green ones studying her with keen interest.

Wondering how she would get herself out of this pickle, Rachael cast a quick glance over to the stoic blonde and then back to the redhead again and promptly dismissed brute force as an option. Despite both assailants' somewhat seemingly calm constitution, every instinct warned that an attack on either one in the presence of the other would be the worse idea imaginable.

Taking a steady breath instead Rachael relaxed and composed herself as best she could. Repositioning against the headboard once again she smoothed her mussed hair.

If she was going to get out of this situation alive she was going to have to play this smart. Well at the very least smarter than her abductors. Who, she realized, were pretty darn clever to have kidnapped her and possibly Mike without once raising her suspicion.

Tucking a few unruly strands of dark curls behind her left ear, Rachael allowed every pearl of wisdom she'd garnered from religiously watching Law and Order to wash over her. Taking a more confident breath she spoke in what she hoped was a non-threatening tone.

"So. You wanna tell me what's going on here? Or have you taken a vow of silence like Bimbo Barbie over there?"

Ok. Not the best start Rachael quickly scolded herself but gave up backpedaling when she saw a trace of amusement cross the redhead's face.

Swallowing a grin, "I'm not really too sure," Willow honestly replied. "We're still trying to piece the puzzle together and work out a few details." She continued, completely ignoring Buffy's instructions to let her do all the talking; which Willow reasoned would be fine with her if Buffy would actually do just that: talk.

". . . Uhh? . . . ok," Rachael slowly nodded with furrowed brows. Maybe she'd initially given these people too much credit on the intelligence front. Crossing her outstretched legs at the ankles she relaxed further. Maybe this could all work in her favor.

"I didn't get your name earlier. I'm Rachael by the way. Rachael Ashton," she smiled tentatively.

"Willow Rosenberg. And it's nice to meet you too. . . um, Rachael," Willow returned the smile. She was amazed, given the current circumstances, at the amount of self-control displayed by the brunette. If it was her, she sincerely doubted she would have been acting so calmly.

So they weren't so smart after all Rachael thought filing the name away for the police later.

"So Willow. You wanna tell me where I am and how the hell I got here? Cause all I remember is one minute I'm in the bathroom getting ready for bed and the next thing I know I'm being buried under a mountain of shoes and you're ogling the twins."

Willow's whole body flushed. "I. . . uh. . . I. . . I wasn't trying to. . . They were just. . . Well they were just. . ."

"Hey it's ok. Mike's always saying they need to be registered as lethal weapons, so no harm, no foul. Just don't fall apart on me, alright," Rachael's lips quirked upward in genuine amusement as she stifled a chuckle at the woman's mortified expression.

Murmuring an apology, Willow quickly masked her embarrassment when she felt Buffy's gaze shift to her. Shuffling around a little, she cleared her throat. "Um well, in answer to your questions, you're at our school. And, truthfully, how you got here, we're. . . erm. . . we're still trying to work the mechanics of that one out as well."

Perplexed, Rachael's brows scrunched. "I don't understand. What do you mean by working out the mechanics?"

"Your, how should I put this. . . er, sudden appearance here with us is kinda unexpected and complicated. Actually it's kind of really _really_ complicated," Willow started to say but was interrupted.

"Complicated?" Rachael scowled. "Well why don't you un-complicate it by letting me go?"

"I would if I could. But I'm sorry. It's just not that simple," Willow ruefully explained.

"Sounds simple enough to me, Willow. All you have to do is let me get out of this bed, walk out that door and we never see each other again."

"I wish it was that easy, Rachael. I really do. But for right now it's not. Try to understand," Willow gently admonished.

"C'mon Willow! You honestly want me to understand— that kidnapping me— is fucking complicated for you? You're fuckin kidding me, right," Rachael exploded in disbelief. The patronizing niceness was starting to grate on her nerves. She was the victim here, not Willow's best bud.

"We didn't kidnap you," Willow quickly clarified. 'Others yes, but you, no,' she silently finished to herself.

"Then how the hell did I get here, Willow? Cause I gotta tell you, I sure as fuck don't remember pointing a cabbie to parts unknown."

"Fa-Rachael, I know all this seems confusingly crazy to you right now but believe me when I tell you things are really and truly. . ."

"Don't finish it. Let me guess: Complicated," Rachael scoffed.

"Very," Willow regrettably agreed as she stole a glance to her left. Some help from her best friend right now would really be appreciated.

"You really don't know what's going on do you?"

The earnest almost whispered question drew Willow's attention back to the brunette. Pondering all the events that lead them all up to this moment, "No. No I really don't," Willow quietly answered.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Rachael raked her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. Opening them a moment later, she pinned Willow with a steady gaze.

"Tell me Willow, what do you know?"

Buffy almost snorted loudly as she continued to witness Faith give the performance of her life. If she wasn't holding firm to the belief that somehow they were all simply being played by Faith despite everyone else's current opinion that this was not the once rogue slayer, she would have already fallen under her spell.

Hearing Willow stumble through another barrage of questions Faith suddenly unleashed, Buffy felt a slight tinge of guilt prick her conscience again for not intervening. It was highly out of character for her to leave Willow holding the bag, especially when she'd adamantly insisted on taking the lead role. But the truth, unfortunately for Willow, was that Buffy's concentration and emotions were all topsy-turvy as she grappled to control the anger and disgust bubbling up on the inside.

Seeing Faith reach so affectionately for Mike and hearing her mumble his name in that drowsy burr had thrown her off kilter. That display and the whole ease in which Faith spoke of him literally sickened her and left a foul taste in her mouth. It also hinted at a familiarity and closeness Buffy herself secretly longed to share with Faith.

Inwardly shoving away the feeling of emptiness that thought evoked, Buffy instead mentally cursed again at why no one had consulted with her about Willow bringing Mike to the school as well.

The muscles around Buffy's right eye suddenly twitched as she made a mental note to personally thank Andrew with a size five and half foot up his scrawny ass the next time she saw him. It had all been his bright idea when he'd happened to overhear Willow and Giles discussing their predicament as he helpfully brought in a cup of tea for the watcher.

'Tea my ass,' Buffy grumbled to herself. It was probably more likely that he was simply spying for the house's gossip vine, where she was certain he was a ring leader.

Surprisingly sorry for the first time that she'd missed one of Giles' excruciatingly torturous meetings, Buffy envisioned herself informing them with a sweet smile that there were other easier means of preventing Mike from reporting Faith missing than bringing him along for the ride. Of course they all involved a swift blow to the head, rope, duct tape an—

"Can I see him?" Rachael eagerly made to spring off the bed when she learnt Mike was resting comfortably only a few doors down.

"No!!" Buffy jumped to her feet. "Um, I mean, no. . . not right now," she quickly retracted as two pairs of startled eyes turned to her. "We have a few questions to ask first."

Normally not an advocate for violence and clearly not a good time to be a staunch supporter, Rachael couldn't understand why this bimbo always seemed to irk her and trigger sadistic emotions in her. If Rachael was honest with herself, it went far beyond the shitty stunt she'd pulled on Mike. It was like the blonde was a gnawing itch she only wanted to scratch by punching her teeth down her throat.

The entire time Rachael had bombarded Willow with questions she'd been hyperaware of her and tried best to ignore the girl's unnerving presence. However, every scowl, every annoyed huff and every glare had proved an arduous task and near impossible disregard.

"Questions! You? You have questions for me?" Rachael gave an all too familiar bitter laugh that raised goose bumps along Willow's arms. "You sat there like some dumb fuck the entire time while I asked mine. Now you want me to rollover n' play nice and listen to your bullshit? You really must be outta your friggin mind. Un-fucking-real," Rachael muttered with a snort as she turned away. "Willow, can you take me to see Mike?" she insistently asked the redhead again.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking too?" Buffy snapped. "I make the rules around here. Not you. And you'll see him when you've answered my questions and not a damn second sooner."

Said with such deadly finality Willow's eyes widened as she mumbled, "Goddess, this can't be good."

Rachael swung back around in an instant. "Fuck you bitch!" And then, without missing a beat, she sprung off the bed. "I play by my own rules and I'm not answering shit."

"Oh yes you are," Buffy deadpanned, her body reflexively shifting into a fighting stance, her hands also curling into tight fists to mimic the brunette's. She guessed this was how fate meant for it to always play out between them.

"Really? And if I don't?"

The goad came out dangerously calm and then hung coldly in the air as the two sized each other up.

"Uh. . . B-Buff . . ., Buffy, m-maybe, maybe we should let her take a peek. It'll only take a minute . . . then, then we'll be back in a jiffy. It'll be as if we never left," Willow nervously rose to her feet as the seconds ticked by. The volatile standoff convincing her more and more, with each passing moment, that this brunette just might truly be Faith.

"I said no, Will. She's not going anywhere 'til she answers my fucking questions," Buffy firmly reiterated, not once breaking eye contact.

"You really think you can get me to? This I gotta see."

The drawled taunt, said with a quirked brow and folded arms, bristled the last of Buffy's slayer feathers. A low growl could almost be heard rumbling from deep within when removing the smug smirk from Faith's face escalated to one of her main - no, her only goal.

"Buffy be- be reasonable," Willow pleaded again, her eyes darting between them as her fingers wrung together uneasily. If this was really Faith, she didn't want to be caught up again in a potential Faith versus Buffy epic battle. Innocent bystanders were usually the only casualties. "Im-imagine h-how it must feel for her. She really may not know what's going—"

"What's your fucking problem, huh? You got some gripe against me or Mike in that delusional head of yours?" Rachael uncrossed her arms and purposely advanced on Buffy with menacing steps. The potentially explosive situation Willow feared was already out of control and had her adrenaline pumping to new heights; especially as Buffy stood her ground and refused to back down.

As bare feet stopped nearly a breath away from strapped gold slippers, thoughts of retaliation went flying out the window for Buffy. She was now completely floored. The unexpected nearness of Faith was rendering her mind to utter mush.

The time before in the novelty store when Faith was this close, Buffy had been too traumatized to understand and truly appreciate the heat radiating off of Faith's lithe body and its affect on her. Now, however, was a different story. The recent delve into her wonderfully fashion-conscious mind made everything crystal clear. Her little epiphany revealing: Faith, this close, their bodies almost touching and their heat mingling, and breathing in her scent equaled the world's best aphrodisiac for Buffy. It was the pièce de résistance to all things sexual and awakened a primal hunger in her that had too long been denied.

Suddenly struck with this new revelation, Buffy was barely able to suppress a visceral urge to lean in and effectively close the already short distance between them as her body gave an uncontrollable shudder. A soft carnal whimper escaped her lips as a tsunami of delicious waves crashed down her spine and pooled south, the brand new silk thong she was sporting innocently drowning in the aftermath.

Watching hazel eyes dilate and then darken, Rachael's breath hitched. Swallowing hard, her tongue nervously flicked over suddenly ridiculously parched lips.

Drawn to the reflexive movement, Buffy's eyes snapped down and hungrily followed the moistening motion. God, she loved Faith's lips. She could already envision them swollen and plump from her kisses.

Still staring in rapt fascination, deafening warning bells suddenly resounded in Rachael's head as an unknown jolt shot through her entire body. Its blast spreading like a backlash of wild fire that instantly consumed all traces of anger and hostility she'd felt.

Immediately finding it near impossible to breathe, Rachael fought to maintain her focus. Every beat of her now wildly pounding heart wrought about a strange awakening that was shadowed by an even stronger overwhelming feeling of impending dread and doom, and so much more.

"Is- is this what this is all about?" She rasped softly, her voice sounding too low and too thick even to her own ears.

Unable to stop another involuntary shiver from the smoky tone, Buffy forcefully dragged her gaze up as a miniscule amount of dignity returned. There was no way she would willingly admit, especially under these circumstances, that for her this was what their relationship amassed to.

Stubbornly armed with a rebuttal of blatant lies of denial, Buffy was left completely defenseless the instant she met Faith's dark eyes. Held captive by their intensity Buffy drew in a sharp breath at what she saw swirling around in their depths.

Faced with knowing there was no way in hell now she could continue to resist her body's impulse to reach out and claim what it kept screaming was hers for the taking, Buffy took a shaky step back.

Oddly, this spurred Rachael to instinctively take a step forward; effectively closing the distance between them yet again.

Befuddled, Willow blinked from the sidelines and then. . . blinked again. She would have even rubbed her eyes out the sockets if she thought it would change the scene she was witnessing. Did she miss something? Wasn't there grrrr mere seconds ago?

"Buffy?" She called out, confusion evident in her voice as it broke into the weighty silence that had befallen the blonde and brunette again as they continued to lock gazes.

Startled back to the reality of the moment by the intruding voice, Rachael hurriedly took a few steps back. Even she would have to begrudgingly admit – under immense duress and torture of course – that for a possible squabble she was now far too calm, and had leaned in much too close.

"If this is what this- this whole abduction sitch's about, you're wasting your time lady. I don't munch fucking carpet." The caustic statement was thrown out with as much venom as Rachael could shakily muster to save face before she spun around. "Willow. Can you take me to see Mike please?" She asked; the question holding more than a slight desperate plea to its tone.

"Buff?" Willow questioned looking past the brunette's shoulder. Receiving a brusque nod from the dazed slayer, "Right this way," she motioned, leading the way to the door.

Gladly following behind, Rachael stole a quick glance back despite her better judgment. Buffy or Buff, or whatever her name was, was still standing eerily motionless in the same spot with arms now wrapped tightly across her stomach looking really . . . vulnerable, was the only word that came to Rachael's mind.

Sensing her gaze, Buffy looked up only in time to catch an indifferent shrug and the toss of dark hair just before Rachael turned away and firmly closed the door behind her.

At the sound of the door's thud, Buffy released the deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Where the hell was a tower when you needed one?

Nothing was what it had first seemed. And worse, nothing was going as she'd predicted.

How could it all have gone so wrong?

Her envisioned reunion with Faith was completely different. They were supposed to sit down and have a heartfelt discussion about their past, Faith's new dual life, and then, presto, they would begin all over again. A complete clean slate. Get it all right for once. Instead - all in a matter of minutes - she'd acted like a spurned jealous lover, almost pummeled Faith's face in, and then was barely able to restrain herself from ravishing her while a shocked Willow looked on.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Buffy practically stumbled to her armchair and flopped down. Faith had reduced her to nothing more than a salivating, quivering moron by just stepping into her personal space.

Still crazy horny and tingling with lust, Buffy did the only logical grown-up thing she could think off.

Burying her face into her hands, she silently screamed into them.

Leaning back sometime later, she took short deep breaths and tried her best to forget the desire she'd seen burning within Faith's brown eyes before she replaced it with disdain.

Faith could protest all she wanted about not munching carpet as she so eloquently put it, but an undeniable flare of interest was there. Sure it ended up being buried under contempt, repulsion, anger and a few other not so nice choice words. But darn it. Buffy had seen it. Had felt it. She had even felt her own bodies response to it in every pore.

"She wanted me," Buffy declared to the empty room. "Fuck." She quivered as her mind wrapped around the thought.

Buffy then gave a luminous smile. She suddenly felt punch-drunk as she fought the urge to cartwheel her firm butt all around the tiny bedroom.

However, a few moments later, despite the euphoria, her giddy expression turned to a frown. These rapturous, heady emotions were exactly what she needed to avoid. She couldn't let her libido distract her when so many questions still needed answers.

Resting her head against the burgundy backing of the chair Buffy closed her eyes.

Had she really thought everything with Faith would have been a walk in the park?

Yes she did, she sadly admitted to herself.

Sure there were going to be a few minor stumbling pebbles along the path. She would have been a fool to think otherwise. She just wasn't expecting boulders. Especially when the only one she'd imagined - Faith's marriage - was already squashed to fine powder and vanquished into thin air by Willow's announcement when she'd first return from her shower.

Apparently, Faith was no more married than Buffy was. Mike, the cheapskate, had simply registered them under the same name in order to swing some stupid discounted coupons on the tours he'd booked during their vacation.

"Cheap asshole," Buffy muttered. Faith deserved better. And Buffy was sure she was the better man for her.

Making a face as she pushed away the vivid mismatched anatomical imagery that thought produced, Buffy sighed. She just wished this whole Faith ordeal would somehow just magically resolve itself.

She wished Faith didn't seem so in love with the overtly masculine Mike.

She wished Faith would not hate the very sight of her.

She wished. . . Anya was still alive.

Thinking the former vengeance demon would have definitely been able to make all her wishes come true, Buffy gave a small chuckle and dismissed the idea in the next heartbeat. The quirky blonde probably would have majorly screwed it all up and charged her a pretty penny to do it as well.

Getting up and walking over to the bed, Buffy picked up the discarded pillow Faith had thrown down earlier. Bringing it up to her nose she inhaled deeply.

God Faith smelt good.

Sitting on the rumpled sheets, she hugged the soft oversized cushion to her and wondered briefly what was taking Faith and Willow so long. Not wanting to dwell on how Faith must be reacting to seeing an unconscious Mike, Buffy refocused on coming up with answer to their problems.

A few long moments later she still found herself staring blankly off into the distance, no closer to a solution or an explanation than when Willow had first spoken to her and filled her in on all the details.

Truth be told, she had never faced a situation quite like the messy intricacies of this whole Faith dilemma.

Taking another intoxicating whiff of Faith goodness Buffy smiled as she drank in the scent. The brunette's natural fragrance was truly addictive.

Groaning when she found herself about to bury her nose deep into the soft pillow again Buffy tossed it aside in annoyance and made her way back over to the armchair.

This was exactly the kind of distraction she warned herself about earlier.

"You're a slayer. For god-sake act like one," Buffy chastised, hoping it would make a difference.

If they were ever going to get to the bottom of this mystery, she was going to have to remain focused. Somehow curb her body's new uncontrollable, seemingly innate need to get all hot and bothered with Faith. And yes, while Buffy was positive getting wiggly with the brunette would be better than the heaven she remembered, it wouldn't bring them any closer to answering the million dollar questions.

See, Willow's preliminary diggings had not only uncovered that Faith was single, it had also unearthed that Rachael Ashton was not just some made-up cover persona but an actual person.

Social security card, passport, and drivers license all found among the items retrieved from the hotel were Wicca-checked and certifiably authentic. And although these IDs by themselves proved very little, they spoke volumes when coupled with the frayed old photo found in Faith's black leather wallet that showed a proud couple – obviously the parents judging from physical similarities – standing next to a very young version of Faith, dimples on display as she was blew out the candles on a cake that said, _'Happy 12__th__ Birthday, Rachael'._

**End of Chapter 9**

**TBC...**

**A.N: **Hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Sorry to have taken so long to get back to this story but life threw some unavoidable curve balls… that really stung. :) For those still interested, I hope you enjoy this update and please feel free to let me know if you're liking or hating the story so far. ;p As always, thanks to Electra for beta'ing and offering her continued support.

**Special Note: **Natalie, this chapter's for you Boo :D.

**Chapter 10**

Giles pinched his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. Resisting the urge to reach into his pocket for his monogrammed handkerchief to give his glasses a good shine, he sighed instead and allowed his gaze to sweep over the occupants of his office once more.

Quickly skipping past his very peeved top slayer, he allowed his eyes to rest momentarily on the other just as equally peeved female in the room. It was still amazing to Giles how much this young woman really looked like a more mature version of Faith. In fact, despite the facial similarities, if one only went on the current animosity and tension brewing between she and Buffy — as well as the earlier heated confrontation he'd had to separate — he would say the brunette was without a doubt the once thought of dead slayer.

Moments before summoning all concerned parties to his office, Giles had been fruitlessly pondering a way out of all their current predicaments, one of which included double counts of kidnapping when he was nearly scared witless by Willow suddenly materializing in a puff of smoke. Despite barely understanding a word of her screeches and wild gesticulations, Giles rushed out of the door and up the suddenly crowded stairway of excited slayers rallying for blood.

All his British brain had needed to hear and comprehend from the frantic witch was — Buffy, fight, and Faith— to know that he had to act with urgency. Willow's profuse apologies for waking up Michael Adams because Rachael had pleaded with her to do so were inconsequential to the possible disaster at hand.

Attimes Giles mused, when it came to this crew — though he'd lay down his life for them in a heartbeat — he wished he could intravenously attach a bottle of Scotch to his arm, close his eyes and dream of the beautiful flowery fields of his hometown and happier times when he was the Ripper just to escape.

Shifting his gaze to the only other male occupant invited to this impromptu soirée, Giles noticed Mike's eyes darting uncomfortably around the room. Feeling slightly guilty for his part in the obviously frightened young man's discomfort, Giles gave him what he hoped was a small reassuring smile before turning his attention to Willow. Not surprised to be seeing an uneasy look on her face as well, Giles fixed her with another strained supportive lift of his lips before letting his eyes come to rest on his cup of tea.

Lifting the porcelain glass with a steady hand, Giles took a sip of the surprisingly still hot brew. For all intents and purposes he looked like a man in control; the epitome of poise and grace. In other words, properly British. His frayed nerves teetering on the edge of the metaphorical cliff of insanity did not betray his appearance as he discreetly stole a glance over the rim of his cup and noticed hazel eyes still angrily glaring at him.

Slowly swallowing the fragrant liquid, he paid careful attention not to let his fingers snap the delicate holder as he pointedly ignored Buffy again. He was determined to show her he was not the slightest bit bothered by her antics.

Buffy continued to look over at her father figure. For the first time — no she lied, maybe more accurately the fiftieth time — she felt that she could possibly strangle him with her bare hands. Savoring the act in her head for just a brief albeit fulfilling second, her eyes twinkled dangerously.

Searching to justify her cause, she squinted a little bit more. Maybe, just maybe, she could tell the gang she'd mistaken him for a Guldron demon.

Nah, she thought after thinking it over again.

No one would ever believe she'd thought those scaly buffoons were capable of gasping a tiny tea cup in their claws.

Alibi sailing out the window, Buffy went back to doing the only plausible thing she could and had being doing for the last few minutes since Giles had practically dragged her and the bitch to her left kicking and screaming into his office.

Remembering that humiliating scene all over again, Buffy gave Giles another fiery glare as she tried to incinerate him with her stare.

She was pissed. Absolutely furious.

How could he betray her like that? It was the Cruciamentum all over again. Okay. Maybe she was being a tad bit drama queenish. It wasn't as bad as that. But dammit, it felt close enough.

He'd treated her like a kid and then had the gumption to usurp her authority — in the front of everyone, no less — by taking matters into his own hands without wanting to hear one damn word of input from her. He'd scuffed her and Faith up with barely a word and marched them promptly down the stairs, making her look small in the eyes of everyone and Fai— Buffy stopped herself from finishing that thought. What did she care how she looked in the brunette's eyes?

Eventually giving a dissatisfied huff, Buffy turned away from her stubborn Watcher when he wouldn't even give her the pleasure of customarily reaching for his glasses and shifted her glare to greener pastures.

In a matter of seconds a satisfied smirk curled her lips as she watched her best friend squirm uncomfortably in her seat. Feeling a sick sense of accomplishment fill her, she mentally patted herself on the back for still having what it took to get a rise out of those around her with just the power of her gaze.

"Oh for bloody sake, Buffy! Will you leave Willow alone," Giles said, unceremoniously slamming down his cup. One thought filled his mind: he'd had enough.

"What did I do?" Buffy whined.

"Buffy?!" Giles rubbed tersely at his aching temples.

"What? I'm not bothering with her," she insisted petulantly.

Rachael was trying. Lord knows she was trying. It all seemed an impossible task though… the burden too heavy sorta thing.

Earlier during the brief discussion she'd had with Mike, they'd agreed to be as cooperative as possible. They'd quietly bide their time in this whole abduction debacle until an opportunity arose to either escape or they were finally released. Then and only then, they would hightail it to the nearest police station and sing like a loose-lipped canary. But, like the best laid plans of mice, men and hostages, they oft go awry.

"Yes you were," Rachael interjected. God, arguing with Buffy was honestly becoming just as natural to her as breathing.

"Was not!" Buffy bitingly declared, focusing all her anger on Willow's new defender. The last thing she needed was Faith calling her up on her actions as well.

"Was too!

"Was not!!"

"Was tooo," came the sing-song reply.

"What are you, friggin two? You weren't even looking at me."

"Twenty-one, and yes I was looking. And you were intentionally staring Willow down to make her all uncomfortable."

"Was no- ARRGH! Why am I even arguing with you? What the hell do you know? Your opinions count for zilch. Nada. Zippo. Ab-so-lutely nothing," Buffy spat acerbically.

Rachael's lips clamped tight just before spewing her readied retort and stared intently at Buffy.

Brown eyes scrutinized every inch of Buffy's face until the blonde became self-conscious and briefly wondered if her mascara had smudged or if she was sporting a nose nugget or something.

"Yup," Rachael nodded half a moment later. "You're a bona fide fruitcake. Total nut job," she announced. "Not even worth my time," she turned away.

"Not worth your time? I am _so_ worth your time," Buffy countered automatically before stopping herself. "Wait . . . Who do you think you're talking to calling me a fruitcake?" she asked but was completely ignored.

"Hey! I'm talking to you," she tried again.

Silence.

"Don't you dare ignore me when I'm ta—" Buffy demandingly started but was cut off.

"You know what? I've had enough," Rachael said, locking their gazes once again. "Listen Bimbo, or Banana, or whatever the hell your name is. You can prance around this joint all you want like you're its Queen Bee but let's get one thing straight. You," she pronounced, pointing an index finger at Buffy, "are not the boss of me," she jabbed her chest. "So if you'd get your head outta your butt for a sec, you'd realize I don't march to the beat of your crazy drum. Now back the hell off."

Buffy sneered.

"The name's Buffy. Not Bimbo. Or Banana. Or Bitch. Or any of the other choice names you keep coming up with. And you're a sad one to be getting into the 'who's the actual crazy one' talk right now."

Rachael's brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you droning on about now?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking—"

"Buffy, please. That's enough. If you could stop acting like a recalcitrant child for a moment and remember these are our… um… guests so to speak, we may be able to make some headway and clear this entire mess up," Giles pleaded, finally snapping out of his stupor that their argument seemed to have put everyone under.

"Huh? Recalculus who?" Buffy flashed him a bemused look. "English, Giles," she snapped.

"In blonde-speak it means axe the cheekiness and play nice, Dumbass," Rachael helpfully rushed in to explain.

"Well whoopdy-friggin-do! Aren't you're just a fount of knowledge. A regular Webster with tits," Buffy smiled sweetly, her temper hitting a boiling point. "I guess it saves me the trouble of wondering if you clearly understand me when I say: kiss my ass."

"Puh-leease," Rachael said without blinking an eye. "As if your pants wouldn't hit the floor in five seconds flat if I even made like I puckered my lips."

Eyes widening momentarily, Buffy's jaw dropped. There wasn't a comeback in the world to refute the validity of those words. Except, maybe, arguing the five second assumption. She was certain her pants could be pooled at the ankles in much less time than that.

Giles' cheeks flushed crimson as he gasped "Good Lord" while Willow continued to silently look, on riveted. Her anxiousness was long forgotten as she mentally pictured her girlfriend in attendance at the meeting. This would have been entertainment at its best to Kennedy, Willow mused. She was certain if Kennedy was here right now she would have been laughing her cute butt off while cursing the fact that she didn't have the forethought to have a bowl of buttery popcorn and a Big Gulp at her side.

"Honey! Please." Mike instantly placed a calming hand on top of Rachael's. He'd never seen his girlfriend get so easily riled up by someone in all their time together.

Buffy's eyes immediately caught the movement.

Her jaws snapped shut and clenched tighter with each soothing stroke he applied. Her poor throat painfully constricted around the menacing growl '_Mine_' that threatened to escape as she fought back the urge to leap over Willow and rip Mike's fingers off, digit by painful digit.

Rachael's eyes shifted as well as she followed the path of Buffy's intense focus. "Don't you even fucking think it," she ominously hissed.

Glowering, they sized each other up like old enemies in a silent battle of wills.

After a short while Buffy huffed and turned away. She folded her arms across her chest as she fixed her gaze on the bookshelf located directly behind Giles.

Rachel sucked her teeth and pulled her hand not so gently from under Mike's, suddenly irritated by the touch. She briskly folded her arms across her chest as well and allowed the buffed hardwood floors to consume her full attention.

Clueless and totally confused, three pairs of eyes looked back and forth between the two women who were now completely ignoring the presence of everyone in the room.

"Erm…," Giles cleared his throat to break the interminably awkward silence that swarmed the office. With random thoughts of that Scotch IV reentering his mind, he tried to restore some semblance of the meeting's objective. "Well then, shall we put… uh… shall we put this all behind us and get down to the matter at hand?"

Receiving only meager nods from Mike and Willow, Giles proceeded.

"It would seem, the reason we're all here today is because Rachael," he pointed towards her, "looks…, well she looks remarkably like a dead sla-sister of Buffy's," he quickly corrected.

"Must've been the diddling twins," Rachael snorted sardonically beneath her breath.

Buffy's head whipped around. If looks could kill, the smirking beauty would already be buried. In fact, Buffy's teeth were nearly cracking from the sheer pressure of not responding with a vicious backhand that she was certain would remove the tiny grin from her dimpled lips.

Rachael looked over and arched an eyebrow at the dirty glare she felt burning into her skin.

Ignoring the brow quirk, Buffy turned her attention to Giles. She would not allow Faith to reduce her to their old taunting games of pissing the other off enough to start a throw-down.

"I don't understand. This doesn't make any sense. If she's dead then why are we here?" A baffled Mike inquired.

"We'd always assumed she was dead. Circumstantial evidence at the time all suggested the fact that it was impossible for her to be alive even though we never found her body," Giles explained.

"Yeah. Same '_circumstantial_' evidence used for me and yet… here I am," Buffy grunted. She was still regretful that even though a new slayer had been called, she hadn't trusted her instincts all those years ago and left Sunnydale to go in search of Faith. Maybe, just maybe, she would have found her back then and they could have salvaged their relationship.

"Wait! You were thought to be dead also?" Rachael asked with disbelief. _What kind of fucked up mess was all of this?_

"Um… well… uh, sort of," Buffy struggled.

"Buffy's not the topic of discussion here. Faith is," Giles firmly cut in, pinning Buffy with a gaze.

Sinking a little lower in her seat, Buffy mentally zipped her lips closed. She'd messed up by revealing more than they'd want their two guests to know.

"Who's Faith?" Rachael asked, tearing her eyes from Buffy who was trying to make like an ostrich. She kept hearing the name.

"You are," Willow piped up for the first time since entering the room.

"Come again?" Rachael turned to the cute redhead. Willow was the only person in this whole fiasco she sort of liked. Buffy on the other hand… well it was best to leave that subject alone.

"Well you might be," Willow corrected quickly.

Rachel's head cocked slightly in confusion, making Willow smile at how adorable she looked. It was such an un-Faith like behavior.

Feeling a penetrating gaze lock on her, Willow's smile dropped. How could she have forgotten how insanely possessive Buffy was of Faith at times?

Purposely keeping her eyes diverted from her best friend, Willow further explained. "Faith—uh, Buffy's sister, is the person we thought was dead. We suspect that you're her because you two bear an uncanny resemblance to each other."

"Oh. Okay. I see the problem," Rachael finally clued in. "Well this is an easy one then because I can confidently reassure everyone and solve this little mess so we can all get on with our lives. I am not Faith," she stated flatly.

"How do you know?" Buffy responded.

"Because I know who the fuck I am," Rachael forcefully said to the new bane of her existence.

"Baby please. Lay off with the cursing and just calm down," Mike admonished, not wanting to upset these people any more. People being dead and not staying dead was just too creepy for him. Something wasn't right with these weirdoes and he just wanted to get the hell away from them as quickly and safely as possible.

The shouts "Don't tell me what to say!" and "Don't tell her what to say!" said in unison shocked both speakers into silence as they instantly clamped their mouths closed and faced off again.

"This is exactly one of the many reasons we believe you're Faith, Rachael," Willow absently pointed out.

"People do shit like that all the time," Rachael snapped, breaking the mesmerizing hold the blonde seemed to have on her. Buffy was beginning to make her feel itchy again. It felt as if she was trying to crawl under Rachael's skin in search of something Rachael didn't have in her to give.

"Not as frequently as you two," Willow softly muttered under her breath to herself.

"How frequently?" Rachael asked to Willow's surprise.

"How did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Rachel flashed an annoyed glance at Buffy's question.

"What Willow just said," Buffy suspiciously demanded, raising a hand up to cut Willow off from interrupting. She was getting tired of Faith's games. Only a slayer or someone of the mystical variety could have possibly heard Willow.

"What kind of stupid frigging question is that?" she huffed incredulously at Buffy. "Everyone heard her. She was speaking loud and clear without one stutter to her voice," Rachel added as she turned away.

Meeting two blank — albeit confused — male expressions, her confidence wavered a bit. "You heard her, right?" She leaned closer to Mike in a muffled whisper.

"Heard what, Rach?" he asked, not understanding where the conversation seemed to have taken another off turn from the path of normalcy.

Giles, however, simply looked on. He was keen to see how things would unfold when he realized why Buffy must have asked the odd question. A small, proud smile graced the corner of his lips. There was still hope for his girl yet.

"What Willow said about Buffy and this Faith doing some weird sync— ah forget it," Rachael grumbled at Mike's already negative headshake and turned to Buffy instead.

"Look Buffy, I know we haven't exactly… er, seen things eye to eye, but I'm really and truly sorry to hear about your sister and all. But you have to believe me: I'm not her," she said sincerely, her tone losing all of its nippiness. "And I know from personal experience it isn't easy losing someone you obviously cared deeply about but truthfully, you're barking up the wrong tree with this. There's nothing Mike or I can do to possibly help you 'cause I'm not who you're searching for. So, can you please just release us so we can get back to what's left of our vacation and forget this whole ordeal ever happened?"

"Rachael, thank you for your kind words," Giles said to get her attention. "If I may also add now, I want to officially express our apologies for the sudden unfortunate turn of events to your vacation," Giles ruefully stated. "Rest assured we'll try and rectify any ruined plans and return you as soon as possible to your hotel," he further affirmed as Buffy looked on with astonishment.

She'd never heard such a candid sentiment declared from Faith before. The sincerity in her chocolate eyes and everything else about her said she was completely sympathetic and understood the pain of losing someone close. Absolutely nothing about her implied she was spewing a load of crock or was that emotionally closed-off tough as nails individual Buffy remembered.

'_Who the hell was this person?'_ She stared at the brunette.

For the first time since feeling the tingle of their slayer connection Buffy really doubted if this was Faith.

"… but before we release you, just to lay our doubts to rest," Giles' voice penetrated Buffy's thoughts again, "there's one small favor we'd like to ask."

Watching the crestfallen expressions cloud the faces of the hopeful couple, he continued. "Trust me, it's nothing illegal… or indecent for that matter," Giles added as an after thought. "It's more or less along the lines of simple test we'd like Rachael to take. Once that's completed you two can then be on your merry way," he assured.

Exchanging a brief look, relief and an unspoken agreement washed over the once again expectant couple. Happily clapping her hands together, Rachael beamed. "Well sign me up so we can get the hell out of here 'cause I'm starving."

**End of Chapter 10**

**TBC…**

**A.N: **Don't forget to review :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone that reviewed and I hope you enjoy this update :) Also, thanks once again to Electra for beta'ing. :D

**Chapter 11**

Buffy could feel the wooden arm of the chair start to crack and give way to the pressure she was applying to it. She paid it no mind though. All her attention was focused on Willow.

No no no no no…

Don't stop…

Please don't stop…

Don't stop…

Don't stop Willow…

Please Will…

Don't give up…

Please… the desperate pleas silently screamed in her head.

They were pointless though; futile cries that had no impact on the events unfolding.

Willow had been going at it for hours.

Her strained sweat-drenched face showed she was tired. The trembling of her mumbling lips proved she was exhausted. She didn't have anything left in her to go any further. Dig any deeper. Push any harder. Try any more.

And as she slumped witlessly in the chair, her breaths coming in short, harsh pants, Buffy knew Willow had given up. And worse of all she knew deep inside that she was unsuccessful.

For several long minutes, no sound except Willow's loud breathing pierced the room while she rested her head on the back of her chair.

Giles looked on, perched helplessly on the edge of his seat and eager to lend assistance when given the permission from Willow that it was safe to move.

Buffy simply closed her eyes. Hopeless and defeated, the tears silently fell. She would assist if needed but for right now she needed this small time to herself. She needed to begin to force herself to accept what she'd denied for too long now.

"I-I'm so-sorry."

Willow's weakly whispered apology reached Buffy's ears. She said it to no one in particular but Buffy knew it was meant for her.

Opening her eyes to see Willow raise a shaky hand to push aside wet strands clinging to her face, Buffy gave a small smile to let Willow know that no apologies were needed.

They had been right. And she was wrong. The person still laying unconscious on the bed next to Willow, sleeping through another spell induced slumber, was not who Buffy thought she was.

Rachael wasn't Faith.

In some tiny way, despite the painful pill to swallow, Buffy was glad that at the very least meeting Rachael had given her the chance to come to grips with her feelings for Faith. It was time to have that talk with herself. Face the music so to speak as her 'five by five conscience' suggested no more than a few days ago. It was time to really accept what Faith meant to her and what she could now never have.

"N…noo," Willow struggled to sit up but her feeble arms caved to the pressure of her body's weight and she fell back in the chair.

"Y-you donn't un-underst…" she mumbled, trying to get up again.

Not caring anymore about interrupting the spell Willow had cast until she gave the signal that it was safe, Giles sprang to his feet. It was clear to him that all the residual effect of the magic was over anyway.

"Oh for Godsake Willow, keep still. You could hurt yourself," he ordered, rushing over and gently pushing her lethargic body back down.

"But Giles," she softly tried.

"No. No talking. You must recover first," he insisted, kneeling at her side to stare into her half-closed drowsy eyes.

"Mind invasion is strenuous enough without the extra care we took and the prolonged time you spent in there. So, stop being stubborn like someone we know and rest properly. We can talk later," he gently wiped her forehead with his pocket handkerchief and then dabbed at the small amount of blood slowly draining from her nose.

Offering a little smile of agreement, particularly on the stubborn part, Willow closed her heavy eyes. Her head ached and her brain felt full and swollen as if it strained to stay in the confines of her cranium.

It was all lingering effects from the spell she'd used. The feelings would naturally fade in time just like all the images and secrets she'd gathered during her mind-walk.

Knowing it was never right to be privy to someone's intimate thoughts and details — especially without their full agreement — Willow mumbled a few words to help nature along and allow her mind to begin purging itself of most of the images as she gave into the pull of sleep. She'd remember the important facts to relay to Giles and Buffy later and that was all that mattered.

Satisfied that Willow was now resting comfortably, Giles re-pocketed the crimson-spotted cloth and stood up, turning to his other charge. "Buffy, I suggest we leave them alone to rest for awhile. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"You can go if you want. I'm staying," she informed, not removing her fixed gaze from the bed.

Giles sighed softly. It would be a waste of time trying to convince her otherwise. Walking over, "I'll be downstairs if you need me," he tenderly patted her shoulder before making his way towards the door.

Stepping out, he came face to face with a barrage of questions from a very frustrated, anxious brunette.

"Where's Rachael? Is she alright? What are you people doing to her? I want to see her!" Mike tried to spy around the door that was quickly closed in his face.

"Rachael is fine," Giles calmly said. "She's sleeping now but you can see her later. How did you get up here anyway?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm sorry Mr. Giles," Andrew stood up from his seated position on the floor. "But he kept insisting he only wanted to be near her and I didn't see the harm in that. But I did advise him we'd have to be super quiet as not to disturb you. It was ok to come up, right?"

"Yes, it was alright Andrew," Giles said, overlooking the potentially horrid outcome a blunder of their disturbing Willow could have caused.

Andrew had grown into a fine young man over the last couple of years and had become such an asset to the whole team that Giles avoided damaging his fragile self-confidence as much as possible. Besides, he took enough berating from all the others already.

"Let's just head down for a spot of tea," he said and when Andrew grimaced, he quickly added "or something else refreshing. They're going to need a little time to quietly rest," he turned the two men towards the stairs.

"But what about Buffy?" Andrew curiously asked, glancing over Giles' arm, back at the door for the blonde slayer.

"Erm… well she has to rest also," Giles spluttered out when Mike's steps slowed down to a hesitant claw.

"Oh? I didn't know she was parrraghhh!" Andrew yelped, cringing in pain.

"Well, you don't know everything," Giles released the crushing pressure he'd applied to the boney shoulders. "So now that we have that sorted out, shall we proceed, gentlemen?" Giles asked with a bright smile.

Mike nodded reluctantly and continued walking. He couldn't put his finger on what was wrong with these people, but the sooner he and Rachael were out of here the better.

*****

"Buff," Willow gently shook her shoulders as not to startle her.

"Hmm?" Buffy groggily mumbled from where her head lay buried against a warm neck surrounded by a curtain of soft brown hair.

While waiting for Willow to wake up, she'd decided against all rational judgment to indulge in a long buried secret desire to lay next to Faith. Rachael would have blasted her out the park if she ever found out, but the sleeping female's quiet, even breathing proved she'd be none the wiser so Buffy took the risk and had crept into bed next to her.

Never in Buffy's wildest dreams had she ever imagined it would feel so heavenly being pressed against Rachael's warm body. It felt like home. She hadn't wanted the feeling of contentment to stop. It was like she was finally where she belonged. Finally where she was meant to be in her life, wrapped securely around this body.

But, sadly knowing that it was all an illusion, Buffy knew it had to end. She'd just never meant to stay curled up next to the brunette so long, nor had she ever intended to fall into such a deep blissful sleep.

It had felt fantastic and made Buffy's heart argue with her mind that it wasn't quite ready to believe that this wasn't Faith. That it wasn't quite ready to let go of the brunette just yet.

Still holding on to that thought, Buffy — in her half drowsy state — allowed her lips to lightly brush against the soft skin, her stomach fluttering at the contact, and inhaled its enticing fragrance.

God she loved how Faith smelt. Always did.

No matter what soap or other body sprays she'd used, there was always something uniquely Faith. During their sparring sessions when she'd gotten too close, it always made Buffy want to wrap herself in the brunette like a soft wooly blanket on a cold night.

It was powerful desires like those that had scared the crap out of her back then and made her want to keep Faith at arms length. It was a pity she realized she'd never succumbed to any of her desires. They could have both have been in a perfectly different place than where they were now. Which was, Faith dead and gone and Buffy now finally having to accept the fact that she'd never be able to share the love she knew could have existed between the two of them.

Brows creasing as she was reminded of the fact that this was not Faith, Buffy disentangled herself.

Pushing up, she opened bleary eyes to stare straight into sad green eyes quietly observing her.

"Will? Why so sad?"

Watching her friend unwrap herself and fully sit up, Willow swallowed the heartbreaking sadness she felt for her. "Not sad Buffy, just tired," she told a necessary white lie. The time for truth would come soon enough. "Giles wants to see us downstairs."

"Ok," Buffy stood up. "What about?" She pointed meaningfully back to the bed.

"She'll be out for another hour or so," Willow informed her and started towards the door.

Buffy stole a glance at the clock by the nightstand. She'd been sleeping longer than she'd realized. Following behind Willow, she noticed that even the Wicca looked freshly showered and changed.

"So we're going to go through what you found in Rachael's head?" Buffy asked as they descended the steps.

"Sort of," Willow answered vaguely, keeping her head straight. She didn't want to look at the confusing frown of her friend's face. "Giles also wants to go over the arrangements he's made for their departure," she quickly threw out. She suppressed a sigh of relief at Buffy's soft 'oh ok' and her decision not to question Willow further as to what she'd discovered during the spell.

Buffy recovered with ease as her steps faltered when Willow mentioned Rachael and Mike's departure plans. Even knowing it wasn't Faith it was still going to be hard saying goodbye. Sure Rachael had irritated her to no end… but so had Faith. They both appeared to share the same charm and traits she seemed to be hopelessly drawn to and secretly found appealing. This was not going to be easy.

The two friends fell into an uncustomary silence as they continued the remainder of their short journey to Giles' office.

Knocking on the door, Buffy entered.

"Buffy, Willow, sit please," Giles looked up from the manuscript he'd been staring at vacantly for the last two hours. Its contents were important in helping them find the scythe but he couldn't bring himself to focus on the words. No amount of random dips into his hidden stash of Scotch helped to calm his nerve to handle the matter he now had to undertake.

"So what's the sitch?" Buffy asked looking from Giles to Willow after a long stretch of uncomfortable quiet settled in the office.

Clearing his throat and trying not to fiddle with his glasses, Giles finally built up the courage and took in the appearance of his slayer.

Buffy'd suffered so much through the years; had gone through so much. More than any person he knew would have been able to handle. Yet she always came out on top somehow. But despite her strength, he had seen so many fragile moments from her. And, when even he doubted she would bounce back, she always did. He hoped this was one of those times. He hoped beyond anything that she would overcome what he was about to say and that it wouldn't be the proverbial final straw in her young life.

"It seems we have an unexpected situation on our hands," Giles started. "Apparently when Willow was in the mind of Rac-, well conducting her spell, she encountered a block."

"What does he mean by a block?" Buffy asked turning to Willow.

Resolving herself, Willow faced her friend. "When I was looking around in her head, everything seemed normal and pointed to the fact that Rachael was not Faith. Everything added up just like she was telling us. Then I decided to dig a little deeper because I wanted to make absolutely sure, especially after the spell that brought her here. As I dug a little deeper, I noticed a layer of memory clouding. It's like a rune used to block the flow of past memories," she quickly explained.

Astounded, Buffy turned fully to face her. "Wait, you're trying to tell me that someone's been screwing around in Rachael's head? Playing around with her memories?"

"It's a little more complicated than that Buffy," Giles explained.

"How complicated?" She looked at him.

"Complicated as in Rachael is really Faith," Willow anxiously rushed out.

**End of Chapter 11**

**TBC…**

**A.N: **Remember to review :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone that reviewed. Please have my sincere apologies about taking so long to update, it was never my intent. That said, I hope you enjoy this update :) Also, thanks a million to Electra for beta'ing. :D

**Chapter 12**

Buffy jumped up, her heart racing.

"What? What did you say? What did you say Willow?" She repeated, trying to steady her erratic breathing. This couldn't be possible. She'd hoped, but doubt had recently loomed nearby, whispering it could never be true.

"I'm one hundred percent certain that Rachael is really Faith," Willow restated. "But we have a problem," she finished softly.

Buffy allowed the smile starting from deep within her soul to surface. "Problem? What problem could we possibly have? We've found Faith. She's not dead!"

God, Faith wasn't dead! She'd really found Faith. Buffy's mind raced with all the possibilities of them starting again. Starting something more, given time. She didn't know where that would put Mike but she was sure in time he'd understand. This, them, – her and Faith – were meant to be. Willow's spell had even proved it. Faith was only here because Willow brought back all of her possessions, and that meant Faith was hers. She wasn't going to deny it anymore. Faith belonged to her, just as much as she belonged to Faith.

"Buffy, you're not listening to what we're saying. We have a problem." Giles hated himself for being the bearer of bad news to the obviously elated slayer but it had to be done.

Joyously flopping back into the seat, Buffy looked at Giles' drawn face. If he wanted to be a stick in the mud she'd let him for now. Sure there were a few hiccups she and Faith would have to get over, number one being getting Faith to remember everything. Remembering her. But she was certain Willow could cook up a counter-spell to break the first one. Then they'd find out who did this to Faith and kick their asses into next Tuesday. Oh, but not before sending Mike packing because she'd changed her mind. She'd didn't care if he understood in time. His grubby paws were not touching anything of hers again. And that included Faith's lips, Faith's breasts and everything else below the waist.

Buffy grinned.

She wondered if later she could convince Faith to get a small tattoo across her ass: _Property of Buffy_.

Grin morphing into a full loopy smile at that thought, Buffy knew she was failing miserably at hiding her joy. "Alright Giles," she tried to reign it in. "What's the problem?"

Cutting to the chase, Giles drove right into the predicament they faced.

"It would seem that Willow was only able to go as far as the clouding spell in Faith's mind. As she struggled to break through it, she noticed another layer, and it was at this layer that she was able to catch tiny glimpses of Faith's time in Sunnydale. Things like her having a Christmas dinner with your Mom. When she first met you. You and her on patrol. You and her dancing at the Bronze…"

Buffy smiled remembering some of those moments as well. Except for the dinner when she'd abandoned Faith to indulge her fading feelings for Angel, everything else was good.

"What Willow saw in Faith's head was enough for her to confirm Faith's identity. But unfortunately, it was also enough for Willow to realize the spell itself won't be easy to remove," Giles continued.

"But you can come up with something to break through it, right Will," Buffy turned hopefully to her.

"I guess in time," Willow agreed. "But without knowing exactly what spell was used it could take years Buffy. And the damage of even a slight miscalculation could possibly be detrimental to Faith."

"Detrimental… How detrimental?" Buffy quietly asked, almost afraid to speak. The years of waiting for Willow to devise a counter-spell didn't bother her. She'd waited for six years already. She'd wait for six hundred more if it meant Faith recovering her memories and being with her. It was just that the connotation of the word detrimental didn't quite fit into the happily ever after she'd begun to imagine for her and Faith.

"Total vegetable or certain death kind of detrimental," Willow sadly told her.

"Oh…" Buffy slouched back. Alright this was a bigger dent than originally planned. She couldn't risk hurting Faith.

"That's not the only problem we're facing, Buffy."

Buffy shot an incredulous glance at Giles. Shit. How much more could there be?

"Even if by some miracle we were to find out what memory spell was used to begin counteraction, it would seem that woven behind the cloud is the layer I mentioned before. And strangely, it's serving to reinforce the spell and make it an almost impenetrable barrier."

"Is it another spell?" Buffy's heart sunk.

"No. It's not a spell. Apparently, it's been created by Faith's own mind."

Buffy stared back in confusion. "What do you mean created by her mind?"

"We're not certain of all the details but usually with these types of the spells, a person is sort of like a prisoner in their own head. Parts of their mind are forcefully suppressed with their memories locked away within it. That's why if you're ever able to remove the spell, the person usually can safely recover their memories. However, in Faith's case, it would seem her mind has willing merged with the spell. There is no forceful suppression involved. It's her free will just as much as the spell to not remember. And because of this merger with her will and the spell, it's created this second opaque barrier. Which means, even if we were to try and break the spell, we would be stopped at every turn."

Buffy looked at Giles for a long and hard moment before turning to Willow. Maybe he'd been hitting that secret bottle harder than any of them realized.

"Sorry, but it's true Buffy," Willow's words and somber features validated the truth of her Watcher's words.

"But how?" She whispered, more perplexed than ever.

"From what I could determine, Faith simply doesn't want to remember. She may have had someone initially perform the first spell for her but somewhere down the line it would seem that the spell's evolved and been made stronger by Faith's desire to forget everything about her life," Willow tried to explain as best she could. Her heart tightened at the crushed look on Buffy's face and the tears falling unnoticed.

"She doesn't want to remember," Buffy softly mumbled.

"I'm afraid not," Giles answered, wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Even watching a marathon of Andrew's blasted science fiction shows would be better than this.

The question why was on the tip of Buffy's tongue but she swallowed its utterance. None of them had the answers. The one who did know wouldn't be telling them anytime in the foreseeable future. Everything was just as Buffy'd first suspected in the hotel; Faith didn't want anything to do with them. Didn't want anything to do with her.

"So what do we do now?" she looked over to her father figure, unsure of anything anymore.

"I think the best thing is to leave everything as it is for now. Faith seems intent on living a different life from her old one. She also doesn't seem to be a threat to anyone. And truthfully, she seems to be very hap… um, adapting to a normal life that doesn't include slaying. So maybe it's best to let her carry on as before."

"But shouldn't we tell her what we've discovered?" Buffy questioned, uncertain if leaving Faith in the dark was really a good idea.

"It would serve no purpose, Buffy," Giles gently admonished. "She honestly doesn't have any recollection of being Faith, and for all intents doesn't want to remember that part of her life."

"Will?" Buffy glanced over at the witch. She wanted Willow's opinion. Not that she didn't trust Giles' but it was just that he tended to be too logical. Too much of a Watcher at times.

Willow looked deeply into unsure hazel eyes. She knew what Buffy was asking of her.

"I think it's for the best also, Buff. From what I saw in Faith's head it's like she no longer exists. Almost like she truly is dead…" Willow's voice trailed off at Buffy's gasp.

She recoiled as if Willow had slapped her. In a way Willow guessed she had, but she'd said what she needed to. Buffy had to understand. Physically that may be Faith's body but the brunette's mind now seemed to belong exclusively to Rachael. And belonged to her by Faith's own choice.

"What if someone intentionally did this to harm Faith?" Buffy blurted out, grasping as straws. "Shouldn't we keep her here to protect her? She'd be safer here."

"We can further look into that theory but we're truly at a loss for leads. Plus, the few clues we do presently have all indicate that Faith was not coerced. After six years of being on her own, I don't think there is any threat to her life, Buffy, or that she's in any immediate kind of danger. Being here would only complicate and confuse things further for her. We simply just have to face the fact that Faith doesn't belong in this type of life anymore," Giles reasoned.

"S-so that's it then. We just let her go."

"We can keep an eye on her for awhile but I don't think there'll be any issues," Giles smiled encouragingly. Inside his heart ached watching Buffy struggle to keep herself from falling apart.

"When is she leaving?" Buffy asked with false bravado, wiping the tears away.

"We've all been fortunate enough with Willow's help that they believe they've been drugged and brought here. We really don't want to push our luck with everything else that's going on, so I've made arrangements for Sherry to drive them back to their hotel tonight. We'll cover the expense of their trip and can even arrange a hefty settlement for ruining their…"

Giles continued on with his plans but Buffy tuned the rest of his words out after she'd heard Faith was leaving tonight. It didn't give her any more time to spend with Faith. There were so many things she wanted to say and now just simply couldn't anymore to the dark slayer. So many apologies and denied declarations that were now best left unsaid.

Buffy pitched when Willow suddenly touched her arm.

"Sorry," Willow apologized, aware that she seemed to be saying that a lot to Buffy these last few days. "I'm going up to wake Fai --Rachael now. We wanted to know if you wanted to stay as we explain to them that we've made a mistake and bid them farewell."

Buffy numbly stared at Willow. Could she look into Faith's eyes and lie to her after hurting her for so many years? Could she say goodbye again? Maybe even for the finally time.

"No, I can't. I can't stay," Buffy shook her head. "Just tell her…" Buffy fell silent. What do you say?

"I'll tell her you said take care," Willow finished softly for her.

"Thanks Will," Buffy smiled sadly and got up. "I'm going up to my room," She told them and slowly made her way out the door on weak legs.

"Do you think she'll be alright from this, Giles?" Willow asked staring at the closed door.

"I don't know," he dabbed the slight moisture from his eyes. "I honestly don't know."

The two lapsed into silence. Each falling victim to their own thoughts until Willow's voice broke through the quiet of the office.

"Giles."

"Mhmm," he mumbled, his mind still on his slayer.

"Do you believe in true love?"

Taken back by the question, Giles pulled his eyes from the door. "What?"

"Do you believe in true love?" Willow repeated.

"What do you mean by true love?" he puzzled.

"You know. Like the fairytales. One special someone. One great love. Someone who's like… like your soulmate or something."

"Ah," Giles mouthed. "Well, I don't know, although there have been historic writings that reference such an occurrence of soulmates. Two halves of a whole. But, I'm not sure if those tomes really took into account—"

"No Giles," Willow shook her head. "Forget those old books. Do you believe in true love? Or, at least in the concept of a soulmate."

"I… Well, I…" Giles grabbed his trusty handkerchief and gave his glasses a quick shine. Putting them back on, he met Willow's gaze head on as she patiently waited.

"Yes. Yes, I do," his mind fondly recalled the soft smile of the woman that still warmed his heart and haunted his dreams. There would never be anyone like Jenny for him. She was definitely the love of his life.

"Why do you ask?" he questioned a moment later, pulling Willow from her own thoughts of Tara. The question of whether Tara was her true love was never an easy one for Willow, especially when Kennedy held her so close at night. Before the dark-haired slayer she would have said yes without a moment's hesitation. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"Because when Faith first came here we all got so caught up in whether it was really her or not that we never fully focused on why a spell to return all of Buffy's possessions to the castle also brought along Faith."

"I see," the watcher slowly nodded, the wheels in his head already turning. "So you believe Faith is Buffy's true love. Her soulmate, so to speak."

"No. I think they're both each other's true love, Giles. I didn't want to go into the details before but when I was in Faith's head, those shards of memory I saw were more like a collage of Buffy clips. It was like a continuously looping video of every Buffy smile, every Buffy expression, every Buffy interaction. It was all just Buffy, Giles. And, from what I've seen from this spell so far, those memories should never exist. It's as if no matter how much Faith wanted out of her own life, she isn't prepared to let go of Buffy. Something inside of her refuses or finds it impossible to let Buffy go."

"If that's the case Willow, it doesn't explain how come Rachael has no recollection of Buffy."

"I don't know for sure why she doesn't. My guess is I don't think Faith wants to share Buffy with anyone. Even with this other persona."

Giles' forehead crinkled, deep in thought. This was really all just bewildering. "But—"

"Giles, how many slayers have you worked with recently? I'm sure you must have noticed how possessive they are about what they deem their property," Willow pointed out.

"Well, yes. I see your point," Giles agreed thinking back to the many scuffles he'd had to mediate in the last few years. The majority of them, he thought fondly, originated from his head slayer in relation to Dawn pilfering her clothes.

"So what do you think we should do about this?" Giles asked at a loss, almost mimicking Buffy's earlier question.

"There is really nothing we _can_ do Giles. Without knowing the spell that was used, that clouding veil is really almost impenetrable. Factor in Faith's will and we're at an impasse."

"Should we inform Buffy of your synopsis?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Willow thought of her already broken friend. "If we do, I don't think we'd ever get her to walk away from Faith."

"Indeed," Giles nodded. "Indeed."

**End of Chapter 12**

**TBC…**

**A.N: **Please remember to review :) BTW, the next chapter is the finale. ;p


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